The Son of a mad man…
They were running and they were cussing
I saw them scattered and angry
They were free without his presence
And in his presence, a pretentious seriousness,
But in all this, his child saw a loving father.
On the road, he was alone, save one- his son,
Nobody walked his lane,
Let alone his path,
None would have their clothes touch, even by mistake.
Shabbily he dressed, dirty he looked, smelly he was, his hair unkempt,
But the son only saw a busy father.
In a meeting, he spoke,
Saying his mind plainly, everybody was silent,
Thinking he was making sense, he continued,
But in their hearts, what would a mad man say,
Well, he is the boss, we must obey, they gossiped,
Alas!, he is mad, they laughed off,
But of the son, what a brilliant dad!.
In the classroom, he was teaching,
Passionately, he taught,
Thinking his audience were at the same level of intelligence as him,
Blankly they looked on, managing to copy his sensible writ on the board,
And after the session, most breathed,
That man is mad.
But the child has learnt to understand his father.
Look at this mad man driving!!!
Didn’t he see an oncoming vehicle?, one rhetorically asked,
Look at this big fool, said our man,
I’m sure he saw me approaching, he continued,
Well, the world is full of crazies, he concluded.
Everybody in the other car thought they knew who the mad driver was,
But his son, only agreed with his father,
Daring what the world might say.
Oh my!!!, the landlord must be very mad,
He just increased the house rent, inconsiderately,
Doesn’t he know the crisis in town- fuel subsidy to wit.
They were lamenting and wailing,
Not knowing he felt the impact of the fuel stuff too,
Well, with their utterance the son judged them,
Ever knowing his dad can’t be wrong.
And at home, father called his children,
Reading to them from the good book,
Teaching them the way they should grow,
Attentively, all listened,
Then after everything has been said and done,
A prayer was said.
The children chorused ‘Amen’.
And the son, always knew his dad is in his right mind,
Though the world thinks dad is otherwise.
How many people have I libeled mad,
How many souls have I wronged a-name,
How many are yours?
Though in our various walks of life, we meet different people,
With different lives,
Never, a-name them a-mad,
For everybody seems to himself in right senses.
It is what I have seen,
Yes, what I have experienced,
For you and I one way or the other have encountered a ‘mad’ man:
Lecturers, Drivers, Crazies on the road, Landlords, Friends, enemies, Acquaintances,
Even in the news, we’ve heard of so called mad persons,
…just about everywhere, we have encountered such madness,
But what are we to name a soul mad???
For we may all have been
The son of a mad man.