Twilight,
Every time my bus passed this Bangalore road,
It never stopped to amaze me.
The streets are always busy with activities,
Bundles of fresh yellow flowers sold for prayers,
Simple souls standing, enjoying hot steamy sweet tea at small stalls,
Rows of long distant buses arriving and stopping at several places,
Travellers alighting…
Jostling for passengers among three wheelers and taxi drivers,
Burst of laughter, joking, intense bargaining for fares…
These amidst the non -stop blaring of vehicle horns.
Only a few passengers they get,
But yet again, they patiently wait.
Most people here are the poor daily workers,
Wrapped in old shawl over their head and body to ward off the cold.
The well off often looked too serious,
Hardly any smile in their faces.
Often I wonder,
Whose end of life is happier?
I love the wisdom in this poem So true, who is happier? A great ten, my friend
Last four lines are the essence of the poem! so true; the less mighty we are, more closer to his Almighty!
Thank you for talking me to the bus stops of Indian towns.. Ginger sweets, fruits sellers, smell of jasmine and our innocently poor country men! thank you again, Doctor!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Then you are the person who start a simple smile on them dear, one smile will multiple the number of replies...like sun bright the dark day something must act to start...if we look a lighter side we never stay hoping it bright to come to us if we have something to bright others, a cheap and costless smile can make any heart grow braver and enjoy life, at least we give them hope..for happy ending as u said my friend_Soul