I am driving 
To the doctor’s clinic
To fix my broken arm
Locomotives broom the busy road
A man is walking down the street
In sweltering heat
In his long black blazers
Sweating and smiling
Talking to himself
Or perhaps an invisible friend —
Will somebody stop and ask him:
How are you doing today?
Are you in pain?

The streetlights have turned green
I move on —
A few days later 
I see him again
Walking in cold rain
No overcoat, no jacket 
Nor even an umbrella
Sparsely dressed 
Shivering and shaking 
Talking to himself
In the same manner as before
As the locomotives pass by
And I move on to my destination.

© Sadaf Munshi.