The Perfection Of Anonymity Poem by Raj Arumugam

Even in the place where some knew my name
I walked unknown though, occasionally, some would mutter,
some would mouth a whisper:
That's him
and point in the direction.
Here, however, is the perfection of anonymity
for I
not only go without an identity,
I go too without a name.
Here, however, as
I slip through department stores and streets
and get off trains and walk into stations
like a shadow
as one more in the crowd
is the perfection of my anonymity for I not only
go without an identity, I go too without a name.




(from The Migrant - notes of a newcomer (February 1997- July 1998))