The Full Circle Paradox
We landed, one early morning of June, in the US of A;
not too different 'twas by civil infrastructure, I daresay,
from the city we came from, back home in India;
well determined were we to keep away all phobia,
associated with any first-time travel to a far-off land;
and being non-judgmental, for situations to understand.
According to the general all-around prognostication,
went well the initial days, deep in somnolent stipulation;
excitement had taken its toll, being implored recompense;
our bodies slowly adjusted to the altered diurnal cadence;
cautiously attempt to interact, we did, with the surrounds;
feelings felt new, so did visuals, olfactions, and sounds.
Horrifying it was to behold vehicles to the right
different familiarities interpreted a traffic blight;
for a habituation lasting six decades and more,
the inertia to change, it was unfair to deplore;
but this liberality on behavior also meant,
the vow of tolerance had begun to relent.
On a positive note, there was a theme of disbelief;
upon avowals, it still qualified as arbitrary relief;
to walkers at road-crossings, precedence was given;
by all drivers, rule-abidance was consciously striven;
this was a miracle, 'cause for road-users from our climes,
such conduct would have killed 'em a hundred times.
The span of daylight was another matter of trepidation;
an ordeal it was guessing time by the sun's inclination;
routines went for a toss, mundane living was at a loss,
that we were in America was our only remaining gloss;
by now the will to stay uncritical, by a distance had slid;
the binding between purpose and action became undid.
Thunderstorms today, the weatherman predicted,
and deftly contrived to remain un-contradicted;
a few distant rumblings for an acoustic backdrop;
intermittent wind-gusts to keep the pretense upprop;
one such surge, being manipulatively circumspect,
yanked free a brief from the clothesline, for effect.
The abandoned, orphaned brief, on the sidewalk lay,
trampled upon by folks, as they went about their way;
many more ignominies it endured, uncomplainingly,
until a homeless person claimed it, quite delightedly;
he quickly squeezed it, with a furtive glance around,
into a frayed backpack, with assorted things enwound.
Watched all this in wide-eyed amazement did we,
with a little disillusion and a little more of glee;
here was an accustomed incident at long last;
weathermen, flying briefs, were universal typecasts;
in the warmth of thrill, the residual gloss was shed;
going about this strange land was no more a dread.
In our eagerness to demonstrate probity,
waylaid victims we become of the oddity,
where, to be non-judgmental, is to be so,
criticism is the tool for meanings to hoe;
the phenomenon is the Full-Circle Paradox,
among geeks, it is a thing that just rocks!