The sadness of solitude, this fact that

all humanity, so far, has had experiences

with this affliction.

On a Sunday matinee, wandering around

in Greater London with a fellow, a mutual decision was made to purchase provisions.

To feast on this exclusive picnic on a

bench, courtesy of the Council, in the

middle of this ghost town.

The usual traffic buzz, the citizens.

The exquisite pavement.

We discussed about the usual:

State of Affairs!!!

Some individuals approached us for:

‘Cigarette!’, ‘Spare change Guv’nor!’

We inclined empathetically, then a lost

soul, a middle- age gentleman, started to converse with us, both our ears opened.

Introducing himself as the charming name:

‘Hope’. Sharing concerns about the nation’s

decline, the dirty streets, disgust in mind.

And at last, but not least, his personal story.

Gladly, we shared our names, and

promised to have a thought for his

misfortunes. The poor soul felt lonely

and lost, conversation seemed of some kind of relief for a while, the calm before the

storm. Is there any end to suffering?

It is our duty to be nice to each other,

but we find that society does not seem

to function that way. Hopefully,

some kind of community system

does exist, and at times does function.

A few dedicated souls are there to soothe

this tragedy, reaching out to others is our

duty. Some do not think so?

But the hearts of those who understand

are there are at times to listen.

Alas, some are still forever isolated in a crowded place.

A dream to be firmly existent.

Gratitude to all.

Y C.G.