Seeing the World from Below

There are two persons on the sidewalk. One is a man so old, playing his music. The other is man not old, not young, but closer to old, selling bamboo-banks.

They are very different. One makes a sound while the other just keeps silent.
The older is always alone while the other sometimes brings his family along. And they always stay at every other end of the sidewalk.

They are very different, but they are more the same. Both faces a heavy burden.
Both sits at the sidewalk.
Both ignores the rain, the too much heat of the sun, and the noise of vehicles on the street.
But do they also ignore the cold stares of the people passing by?

Both hopes, every second of everyday that they are sitting on the busy sidewalk, that people would somehow spent some seconds of their day stopping by and recognizing them; that people would share some penny for them to get by the day.
And both feels gratitude when some people do stop by.
Because they are also humans. They may be not like the busy pedestrians for they have nothing to keep them busy except to sit at the sidewalk, contemplating and hoping.

But i still wonder, who is better? The old music man who is alone because he has no one to think but himself? Or the man who sells bamboo banks because he has a family even when he hardly provides a meal for them?

I wonder because i am different from them... But i am more the same with them than different. To answer, i have to sit on the sidewalk too... But i am afraid. I am afraid that people would just pass by. I am afraid to have nothing to eat and even to drink. I am afraid to be stucked in one place when the world around is moving because that would make me feel that i am not of the world. I am afraid to keep hoping that more people would be warm-hearted. Or is it just that what really makes a human are the cold stares? Then the world does not notice me because again, i am not like those people.

Then maybe the world is not really oblivious of me. Maybe i am just oblivious of the fact that sitting on the sidewalk, makes me less of a human...
I am afraid.



Who is better then?
Is it the old music man? Is it the bamboo-bank seller? Or is it me? Is it you?
I still wonder.