Wander logo

The Powerful Eyes of a Powerless Man

And the first country I ever travelled to.

By Nathan Shane PriorPublished 4 years ago 3 min read
2

How often do you have despair and hopelessness searching through your soul?

Eyes that posses the portal in which i lost myself through.

I wonder where he is now. What he is doing. If he is still alive and thriving on his torn apart thongs, living his torn apart life. In his eyes maybe i was a young rich white boy with a gold watch, a stack of cash in my pocket and a confused face. But from my side, sitting up on my little cart about to go on my tour of Old Delhi, i was just a deeply frightened boy who had just been confronted by the harsh realities of the real world. All i knew was Sydney. The bright lights, smooth lifestyle and carelessness. I never knew that the first country I’d lay my trembling footsteps in would be India. I never knew this. So here i was, sitting above him. Above him. I wasn’t equal to him. I was the foreign rich traveller who looked down upon him as if i had a right to. I looked down at a broken man who had no legs. No home. No money. Nothing. His hands were barely gripping the ripped thongs he used to crawl his way through his pain and unhappiness. His beard was overgrown like a bush in an abandon world, a world just as abandoned as he was. His poor lips had almost as much cracks rippling through it as his heart had. He was just there. On the dirty concrete. Hundreds of people quickly hurrying past our cart would stare and stare until I couldn’t even look in their direction. Some would stop. Before i knew it i was surrounded by Indians upon Indians. The honks and beeps of all the cars in the tight, highly populated street grew louder and louder. The old, colourful buildings seemed to begin concaving in on me. Everyone was looking. Thousands of them. I just wanted to leave the tour and sprint back to my hotel. The chaos and unbearable sight of the poor ruined me. Then it all seemed to, well, stop. The man beside my cart came closer and our eyes met in an engagement i will never forget. His frail arm lifted up higher than his spirit and touched me very gently but with a harsh impact that hit me harder. He let go of his precious thong and opened his hand out for money. I looked away and the cart began to move. And i never saw him again. As i sit here tonight, i wonder if maybe all he wanted was my hand and not money. Maybe I could have just smiled at him and gave him that little bit of hope that everything was going to be okay. That kindness that he never received from anyone. But instead i shuffled as far away from him as i possibly could. I glanced away from the powerful eyes of a powerless man. I just left him and it pains me too think that if I wasn’t so afraid that maybe i could have put a bandaid over his emotional wounds. I had no cash in my pocket if that’s what that hand really wanted. That hand was a cry for help and what i now realise is not one of those thousands of people that walked past seemed to care about him. Not one.

I will never forget you. You were the man that showed me the gratefulness I truely never had but always needed.

———————————————————————————————————————

+ Note on the Account:

In late 2017 I put my first stamp on my passport. Well I didn’t, a stern Indian guy did at the airport. On the first day, I was placed in the deep end. I didn’t get to “warm up“ to what India had to offer. I was placed in an area of Delhi named Old Delhi. Old Delhi is believed to contain over 12 Million according to some sources. The streets of Old Delhi are more condensly populated then New Delhi and it’s buildings are very old and colourful and littered with advertisements and political posters. My condensly populated, I mean condensly populated.

This was my face 😯 the whole time.

humanity
2

About the Creator

Nathan Shane Prior

I always tell the truth, even when I lie.

Reader insights

Be the first to share your insights about this piece.

How does it work?

Add your insights

Comments

There are no comments for this story

Be the first to respond and start the conversation.

Sign in to comment

    Find us on social media

    Miscellaneous links

    • Explore
    • Contact
    • Privacy Policy
    • Terms of Use
    • Support

    © 2024 Creatd, Inc. All Rights Reserved.