Editor's Choice
Theme: Harmony

General Compartment

On the upper berth
A mother crouching;
The baby crouching over her arms,
Down in the lower
The son chanting,
The mother nodding with closed lids.
By the window
The grandpa making a bed for the grandson
With a heap of suitcases between couches.
Down the floor under the couch
An old man lay Pillowing footwear.
An ailing woman putting herself
Down the chest of her husband
Set against the back.
The lady frowning for a room,
Amazed a young man offering to leave.
Down the floor
Muscles break;
Rally men still swarm the coach
Vibrating with patriotic slogans;
Everybody so caring,
Everywhere caring heads peeping
Like the wheeled compartment:
Melting in crowds
All walls in my India
Spreading the fragrance of populace.

Written after travelling in an overcrowded coach on a return journey from Puri on 2.10.07 by the Tapaswini

29-Jul-2011

More By  :  Prafulla Sahu

Views: 1400     Comments: 4

Comments on this Poem

Comment Thanks for your precious comments.

Prafulla Sahu
30-Oct-2012 09:31 AM

Comment Nice one. I wish you had accommodated the usual bajanwallas and singing beggars too in order to make the Indian picture complete. Well, that is asking for too much. The vignettes of our land are innumerable. All said and done, India is great as she is not yet antiseptic.

madathilnair
30-Oct-2012 06:53 AM

Comment Thanks a lot for your comment.after reading your comment i am inclined to seek your comments on my poem-to sophia,cow slaughter and mosuittos-the ambassadars of sanity and kaling war.thanks again mam.

prafulla
31-Jul-2011 13:30 PM

Comment Prafulla Ji, this poem is so nice!!
"Melting in crowds
All walls in my India
Spreading the fragrance of populace."
lovely lines!!

Rupradha
31-Jul-2011 10:55 AM


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