A Bus Ride In Kolkata Poem by Biswajit Basu

Teenagers love an adrenaline rush and experiences that are even stranger,
But, for us oldies', boarding a full bus in Kolkata is the ultimate in danger.
Office over, I was at the bus stop, but buses were coming in full,
I had promised to pick up my son after a football match in school.
I saw my bus coming; a dilapidated jalopy smoking from the gills,
A garishly painted monstrosity rattling along like an iron cage on wheels.
The bus, full of a raucous motley crowd was bursting at the seams,
Accompanied with a medley of noises, shouts, curses and screams.
Hands and heads bulging out of windows, packed like sardines were these mortals
Some with just their toes on the footboard at the two sagging portals.
The bus being absolutely full, the driver decided not to halt,
He went charging past us prospective commuters, true to his salt.
Thinking just of my son, my only boy, my beloved kin,
Steeling myself, I ran after the bus just to get my toe in,
But a guy hanging out of the front, screamed 'No, No don't get on',
I was bewildered to be cautioned like this by this absolute moron.
Who, teetering at the front door, was forbidding my boarding at the back,
This guy must be crazy I thought and in basic courtesy he did lack.
I saw an inch of toe space and onto the rear footboard I jumped,
And pushed myself into the entrance, oblivious of the pressure I pumped.
There was a scream from the front as our speed became more,
Ejected with malevolent force popped out a guy from the front door,
As I watched, amazed, from my foothold I saw him lying on the ground,
Flailing his arms in frustration he was in the melee drowned,
He was the same man at the front door when to board the bus I made my bid,
As the bus went past he looked sadly at me and said, 'See, what you did! '