He was about ten years my senior and as my pace for walking overtook him I had many questions and thoughts milling through my mind about him.
Is he homeless? No! He's dressed rather well to mediocre. He was hobbling. There was a sadness about him. His head was bent by the neck tilted to the side and almost resting on his chest as he walked. Something clinically not perfect here. I wanted to make eye contact, to offer at least a nod but he was set in moving ahead and didn't notice me. It wasn't really an aimless walk. In fact he forged ahead reather determinedly.
I meandered several streets chanting on my beads when I came upon him again. This time it was face on but he still didn't notice me. It seems he was on a wayward whimsical route as well. I looked back as he trailed his way down a lonely street with a hobble and his head buried to his chest.
It was night. Where was this soul going? I only imagined he has a history and a karma that is unique to anyone else. Whether it is to be shared or not who knows? It crossed my mind that he knew pain. I admired him though for his walking about -- this mystery man. "He's making the best use of his situation," I thought.
Krishna, please bless him. Bless him a lot. He may have no friends except for you.