Sunday, December 10, 2006

The return of the train

I was back on the tube
Homeway bound, happily;

Four years have passed by,
Stting by that rusty window;

They ’re the same passengers,
I grew up familiarizing with;

These are the interiors,
Fertiled by flowing rivers;

Most of them are dry today,
After the deluge of monsoons;

The fields though are green,
A long stretch of dancing carpet;

As always,

That feeling of lightness came,
The mind was a floating feather;

The train was bluish white,
And the sky a bluish black;

A couple were returning home,
And a lean, dusky girl travels alone.

As always,

I remember those days,
When I used to go home;

To see a young girl,
Bonded to me in love;

This was the noon train,
That took me home by night;

To be with her,
To hug and kiss;

To be in love,
To give myself;

Those were the early days,
When eternity visited often.

As always,

The same train came to a halt,
At one of those discreet stations;

The blind-beggars rhyme,
A group of bad boys sing along,

The tube has always been musical,
The terrain outside forever mystical.

As always,

It chugs past a cement factory,
Where people eke out for a living;

Littered ‘th lights in silhouette,
It moves past the right window;

The fields of fantasy fling past,
Flying comes a little winged bee;

Resting on my thigh for a while,
Before flying itself out of the tube;

Knowing not where to go next,
I watched it disappear into dark;

`life’s like that,
a flying journey’

`fleetingly fragile,
and full of fantasy’

`a dive into darkness,
dwelling on dreams’.

As always,

The tube tricks me to think,
Like the tracks that never meet;

Of the lives of those poor,
Living in hut-filled hamlets,

So deary to live with, yet
Unnoticed and uncared for.


Will I take the noon train,
To travel toward my home town.

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Stories From The Soul Town

There lies a magical land. Surrounded by the green ghats to the west, gurgling great rivers on the east, the valley with the very blue sky. A temple town of the tamils. Sitting on the dancing rock on the highland overlooking the valley, the writer procreates the lives of the people of this lesser known south west. Full of strange yet simple souls.