One Man Sitting...

On many mornings, as i make my way to work, my public/private transport would cruise along this street, and i would see this one man sitting... on a wheelchair, just 3m from the edge of the road, forlonly gazing at the cars whizzing by. He is a heavy set, slightly aged man of ~60yrs old, wrinkled spotted arms heavily placed on the arm-rests, a checkered dirty-blue cap absently positioned (on his shiny bald pate?), a yellow-white singlet (white swan brand?) peeking out from his dark buttoned-down short sleeved shirt, dark grey long pants draped over his immobile limbs... he cuts a rather sorry sight.

I'm not quite sure why he is there on these many mornings (or perhaps he is there EVERY morning, it's just that i'm looking and not seeing)... Is he waiting for his personal transport to go somewhere? Is he actively sorting out his day's schedule while sitting there? Is he seeking solace in the bustling crowd of cars & pedestrains and trying to convince himself that he is not alone? Is he waiting for someone to help him cross the road? Is he..... thinking of ending it all? Does he have family? Do they know of his morning ritual?

Several times, i wanted to get off my transport, walk to him and ask.. But i do not want to intrude - it seemed almost like a private, religious rite for him (or maybe this is just a terrible excuse i give to make myself feel better).

Many times we look but do not see. We hear but do not listen.

When one day i no longer find him at his spot, i know i'd feel something.

Would you walk to him tomorrow if you were me??