Bus Stop Poem by anurag chaudhary

Standing by one noisy Monday traffic
He goes easily unnoticed chewing on his paan
Waiting for a bus to stop, a horn to blow

Scuffed shoes exhibit his passion for these paths
Experience peeks through his thinning hair
These roads are oh so well known

Sun looks down at him with all his pitiful light
The paled white shirt definitely deserves a hard wash
As he slowly drags himself out of yet another building

Denials don't hassle him anymore
He casually hurls his credentials back into his worn out satchel
The twilight quietly sees him home

Ma looks jovial as ever
Over the years, she has mastered mending her face as soon as he appears
Her smile is his only escape, and she knows


A bedridden father groans feebly, for he wins no bread anymore
And by the way, who weds the sister of a loafer?
If only he could escape his mortification, even that is just a wishful notion

Nuptials were sung in neighborhood last night
Someone must have raised his case too
For, Ma did return abruptly

They say a man never cries, but they must not have known him
For his pillows are often wet, eyes frequently crimson
He does wear a disguising smile nonetheless

He often stares through the stars from his casement
Wondering if education was his sin
For his qualifications don't allow him to carry bricks

The night passes in slumber, changing sides
Wishing if he could succumb silently in bed
After hours of tumult, sleep finds him somehow

The Sun wakes again, as he carefully leaves the alarm clock dozing
He shaves, shines his shoes, wears his best
Fates don't shine with dates, do they?

Tuesday traffic is as noisy as it was on Monday
He stands by, unnoticed, chewing on his paan, waiting
For a bus to stop, a horn to blow

A bus might take him away and never bring back
He won't be missed though, not for a day
Another chap shall take his place, with millions in the offing.