As I left the office, I saw mr broker. He hangs around the building everyday in the same rags, watching the public live stock ticker. A curious sight, a scrawny man squatting down taking notes as he stares at the screen. I gave him the nickname of mr broker as he seems so serious in his research or whatever he is on, paying no attention to curious stares from passerbys. Just doing his own thing. really.
This time his shirt has a large hole on the back, cut neatly as if with scissors. And a large neatly cut hole on the seat of his pants. He is still seemingly unbothered, taking notes, doing his own thing. At this moment i felt a strange sense of guilt. The vandalized set of clothing he is wearing might be the only set he owns.
Our modern cosmopolitan city has it's share of the poor, homeless and destitute, but i don't think i will be seeing someone in torn pants again anytime soon. In this society? no way! I was quite unsettled afterwards, thinking about the dignity factor or rather the lack of it, and the sense of provety in the scene that i witnessed. For sure this puts my daily grousing of work in real perspective.
This time his shirt has a large hole on the back, cut neatly as if with scissors. And a large neatly cut hole on the seat of his pants. He is still seemingly unbothered, taking notes, doing his own thing. At this moment i felt a strange sense of guilt. The vandalized set of clothing he is wearing might be the only set he owns.
Our modern cosmopolitan city has it's share of the poor, homeless and destitute, but i don't think i will be seeing someone in torn pants again anytime soon. In this society? no way! I was quite unsettled afterwards, thinking about the dignity factor or rather the lack of it, and the sense of provety in the scene that i witnessed. For sure this puts my daily grousing of work in real perspective.
