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On the Streets of Kathmandu
On the streets of Kathmandu,
A man lies selling his pain!
He sells his wound!
And his misery!
Some passersby,
Untouched by the scars of his life
Un-buy his sorrows
Me, overwhelmed!
Saddened by his conditioning
Buy his wounds
A nominal price
I bought his sorrows
For the tag of ‘compassion’
For the tag would make me feel
That ‘I’ have acted; for someone
Someone unknown,
Don’t know!
Why the act makes me feel good!?
Today,
Standing on the same streets,
I ask myself!
Am I really compassionate?
And my heart answers
That I am selfish!
For I pay for the wounds
And the sorrows of others
To feel good!
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Saw a man begging for food and money showing his numb feets and wounded hands; an emotional outburst; felt sorry for the man; his conditioning broke my heart; donated some money; later thought; why the emotional outburst? why did I fell sorry?; Did I do some good for him?; found out I was always acting for my own good and happiness even while donating him some money!