Budha? The Escapist? Poem
Buddha – the escapist?
The old man selling tea,
Young men with office-burden
Decorated on their back
Walk on the road
And I walk the same
Thinking of world, wisdom and woe.
Heavy steps I raise
Nearing the door of my workplace
Thinking of fribble, friend and foe.
Did Buddha think of his family?
Now on the office chair
I justify my oblivious attitude.
Yes, he moved into some anomaly!
Parents, wife and son –
How could be he so rude?
‘Hurry, it’s time to lunch.’
Some hours more and
Again the men old and young
The same road, same path
And destination same.
Less time I have to think
Of the universal family philosophy.
Will they feed my own?
The eternal dilemma goes on…