East Meets West -- Unicorn

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Date Posted: 17:41:39 08/27/05 Sat
Author: Highlander & Raphaela
Author Host/IP: dsl-88-110-152-38.access.as9105.com / 88.110.152.38
Subject: East Meets West

Picture this: New York, Johannesburg, Buenos Aries, Chicago, Munich, Paris, London, Hong Kong...in fact almost anywhere in the World is not exempt.

"From a birds eye view" the City is streamed in busy threads of lightwires coiling and pumping blazes of fluorescent pinks and greens, shimmering at every corner Coca Cola flashes across the grey storeys, lightning their pale grey to Edward Hopper Rose. Tall buildings sleep for rest ahead of another grueling schedule that morning breakfast shall bring with the Financial Times and an Eastern promise of Wall St suits that drench in sweaty angst for the sake of a crumpled Dollar that has been passed thru the fingers of every street vendor.

Flying over Agra, dominated by the illuminated beauty of the Taj Mahal, built in loving memory of a dear departed wife. The smooth white marble was once emblazoned with a thousand jewels, shining bright in ostentatious magnificence. If you have wealth display it, never mind the filth outside, the beggars on the streets. After all, gates and guards can keep them out. Now the rich Western tourists come to see the splendor, looking the other way at hands outstretched and pleading eyes. Why do they allow them to spoil the image of the 7th Wonder of the World?

"From a Taxi drivers eye view" cafe bars light the pavements a blur, flashing past at a pace of a madman�s mind and at a height of a Prostitute�s laced boot. Kebabs, Jewelry, sex, MacDonalds...everything for SALE... skip a street...back to glass...Wedding dress Hire, Wine bar where eagles gloat and teenagers dress like a wet fly...more fluorescence, more jangle, Buskers, fast food papers and leftovers strew the sidewalk, a drunk sways & shouts but he can�t talk...

Rickshaw drivers weave erratically through cluttered streets avoiding the wandering cattle and goats. At the sight of a white person, street children thrust grubby hands through the open windows in the hope of a rupee or two. They desire the luxury of chocolate, their western counterparts buy freely but to them is worth more than bread in an empty stomach. A young woman, too young, stands desperately in the road to catch the tourists� eye. A limp baby over her shoulder, despair brimming in her eyes. The rickshaw driver shoos her away; these are not the sights he wants to guide his clients around.

Mister could you spare me some change
for I have not sinned,
my crime is my time
on the streets that I walk and I plead with you...
"is it better to be a smart dressed man with little heart
or is it best to be humble and free with a common knowledge that separates us apart"

Slowly with great effort she pulls the veil over her head to shield herself and her newborn from the sun�s intensity. Midday now. Straining to see through the haze as images dance in the glare of the red swollen sun, she stumbles. What little nourishment remained in her skeleton frame, her as yet nameless baby has sucked dry. Just a few rupees to buy some chapatti. That�s all she asks. She knows the white people have money to waste on useless trinkets and souvenirs yet they turn the other way. Returning home to her corner of the pavement, she rests for a while. The black plastic binliner neither shades her from the sun nor keeps them dry from the relentless monsoon rains. She wonders if her infant will make it through the night and wonders if it should.

Highlander & Raphaela

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