Dr. Johnson Samuel

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Mean Attitude

Mean Attitude

Early morning, birds were singing;
Got out with my luggage bag swinging
Marched towards my village bus stand
To have a travel of short distance.

Standing among the bus stop crowd;
I watched over their attitude.
Without stopping busses passed,
And the hope of travel ceased.

A voice came from the multitude;
The drivers against whom it grumbled,
For steering buses straight ahead,
As their patience disappeared.

Living in a Democratic Land,
With his Right of Speech at hand,
Against the busman he scolded;
To my wonder many men followed.

As the people long for sun
When there is a constant rain,
Every soul there prayed to God;
Then stopped a bus with thin load.

The congregation rushed forward
To travel on the bus onward.
Some were seated, some stood to smile;
I too entered to travel the mile.

Peaceful travel for a while,
The journey was not broken still;
Happy chats and standing sleeps,
Till it braked for some more men to creep.

A voice came from the standing crowd,
The driver against whom it grumbled;
For stopping bus to have more load.
To my wonder many followed.

My thought ran to analyse,
The one who longs for Paradise;
But blaming others for everything
While he can’t do anything.

Ignorant of the troubles of his neighbour
That the urgency of his labour
Made him grumble on his wait,
When the buses ran through straight.

He uttered as a ‘holy man’,
When the bus braked for other men.
Forgetting his wait so long
Hated them to come along.

One who forgets the past so easily
In his life he acts so crazily.
Even when his hair turns to gray
Many a time he falls a prey.

Then one who is not satisfied
Can never be ratified
As one among the human
Ah! His attitude is so mean.

S. Johnson Samuel

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