Right in the middle of these harsh realities I feel as if I'm on the outside looking in.
I catch myself often just sitting and watching,
observing the chaos that's constantly rushing around me.
Countless eyes have stared into mine sharing with me the horrors that they have seen,
the sorrow that they feel.
Rough dirty hands that have worked too hard and have died too many tears have reached up to me for help,
for affection.
Hundreds of sick, demented bodies have tottered, limped and crawled by me,
hoping for sympathy and money.
These filthy, littered streets are homes to so many poor souls.
The sights, smells, sounds and stories will consume me if I'm not careful.
I feel like a witness to this world that I'm in, but not really part of.
It just can't be real.
I try to detach myself from everything that I see,
for the fear of it destroying me.
I catch myself often just sitting and watching,
observing the chaos that's constantly rushing around me.
Countless eyes have stared into mine sharing with me the horrors that they have seen,
the sorrow that they feel.
Rough dirty hands that have worked too hard and have died too many tears have reached up to me for help,
for affection.
Hundreds of sick, demented bodies have tottered, limped and crawled by me,
hoping for sympathy and money.
These filthy, littered streets are homes to so many poor souls.
The sights, smells, sounds and stories will consume me if I'm not careful.
I feel like a witness to this world that I'm in, but not really part of.
It just can't be real.
I try to detach myself from everything that I see,
for the fear of it destroying me.
This is India. It's poor and dirty and smells like shit (literally). But under all the mud and dust, there is so much potential its crushingly beautiful.
ReplyDeleteAlso, try the barbecue sauce and nuggets at McDonald's. Best. Sauce. Ever.