A Typical Indian Railway Platform-A Poem
I am here standing,
At a typical Indian railway station,
Even though it is four in the morning,
Life here is going on,
Without any stagnation.
The shopkeepers have already set up,
Smell of tea and coffee is in the air.
Trains have been coming and going all through the night,
All the luggage carriers,
Looking to get a good fare.
Every now and then,
A cow turns up on the platform.
Mooing its way through the crowd of sleeping people,
It goes along its way,
To the end of the platform;
And back again.
Almost every minute,
A fight would surface,
Somebody runs with someone else’s luggage,
Another person falls face down while walking,
And ends up in the pile of garbage.
The clock struck five,
And my train arrived.
I boarded it and found my seat,
Trying to forget the scenes in my mind,
I lied down on the berth; sleep deprived.
I did not want to think,
About the gross condition in which that platform was.
And this is the case of most of the stations.
But like every other Indian, I ignored it all.
Not even thinking twice,
Why the platform was, the way it was.