The hustle and bustle
of the city
speeding vehicles
hooting and tooting
speeding pedestrians
walking to and fro.
Under the blazing sun
sits a mad man
talking loudly to
himself gesticulating
charcoal black, heavy-built with disheveled
hair, flowing beard
clad in ragged clothes
torn clothes
he continued talking
to himself
loudly more loudly
as if to overcome
the roaring city, melting city
in front.
He cares none
none cares him.
The sun showers fire
on all
including the
mad man
he rests comfortably, conveniently
as if he is under the
shadow of a banyan tree.
I, a pedestrian
among hundreds
talking silently to myself
silently to myself.
The thoughts
not in order
like speeding
thoughts too jump
from one subject
to another.
What about others?
I know not.
What about myself?
I know
I am sane
while the one
talking loudly to himself
is insane.
Watch me
I am well-dressed
hair-cut stylish
clean shaven, gentle
and serious.
He clad in
torn, muddy clothes
with disheveled hair
flowing beard
resting under
the scorching sun.
Silence is golden, as it
makes you sane.
Look, I sweat profusely
not a single bead of
sweat
visible on the mad man
yes, I am sane
he is insane.
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