This busy at every single turn businessman
Feels uncomfortable when his businesses
Take him through the interior regions of this
Totally unpredictable and elusive country
Where the myriad darkish eyes stare at him.
It seems to him these eyes are not so slant
As the martial art movies represent them.
He often asks himself: Can all these people
Stab one in the back without turning an eyelash?
Just like that. And when he is out, in the open,
It seems to him he knows how to defend himself.
But in this he is mistaken, for he never has to,
And this he knows himself, for he merely says so.
It seems unbelievable and highly improbable
In the beautiful sunlight, but he never knows,
And the courage, physicality and sportsmanship
That he learned at the cricket field,
All leave him, one-off. Why he would rather
Be knocked in the head by a baseball bat
Than go through the crooked streets again.
Yes, it is fear, the primeval fear of the unknown.
Yet all the known comes from the unknown
To be determined as making something
From the mysterious nothing or acting by touch
Where there is no action or making profit
Where no one makes it or working effortlessly
To achieve effect or tasting the tasteless
To develop a taste or teaching without teaching
Or doing without doing or something else,
Something else incredible; just like that.
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