Hand Poem by RAJAT GHOSH

A hand,
An old ugly hand,
A dirty shivering hand
Stretched itself beside a railway bridge
For a penny to gain the grain for the day.
Another equal hand clutched the bamboo
To make the bending body upright for a second,
But failed time and again.
The mouth stopped speaking perhaps for years,
Sore lips filled with reddish saliva,
Yellow eyes were almost closed their shutters,
Bare blight body was perhaps polished never,
Long curly white hair, beard and mustache forgot
To invite the barbar even in that sweet season.


It was puja time, Durga puja,
And holidays for long two weeks.
The daily-passengers were happy, talking, calculating
The puja-bonus, preparing plans for extra little money.
Some said, 'Tour to Kolkata', some, 'Saree and jewellery'.
Many planned to increse the sum in savings passbook.
Various multiple plans planned before train's arrival.


The stretching silent hand was as usual.
Nobody planned nothing for the penniless hand.
Train came, train departed with planned people.
The ugly hand waited and waited for a better day.