• badamiali 10w

    boarding the train to mumbai

    The hard rexine seats make place for me,
    my hands are both wet,
    One from raindrops, the other from sweat
    How short will the journey be?

    An old village simpleton sits across me
    Who thinks windmills are fans for the city
    I want to feel the innocence in his eye

    The trinket seller comes every station
    Her eyes are beady and shiny, like the bauble she has
    I want to feel the hope that keeps her afoot

    I want to feel, I want to feel
    I blabber in my mind
    The raindrops competing on the glass
    Fall on my hand, reclined

    A kid of 8 on the aisle seat, sat on his mother's lap
    As impatient as a fly, wakes his father from his nap
    I want to feel his restlessness

    From across the bogie, I can hear their claps
    So loud, like their lips
    The hijras with their beautiful saris
    I want to feel the courage they emit

    A sudden stop wakes me up
    The hard seats seem homely
    I've slept on my stop now, for so long
    Everyone's out, I'm all alone