Nostalgia For A Crowded Bus Ride. Poem by U Win Kyi

I was living in the countryside.
For going to work, I needed to have a bus-ride.
The bus never arrived on time.
When arrived, it could not take all passengers queued in line,
cos it was too packed and crowded like a tin of sardine.
Women were at the mercy of hands which were groping.
Not only the sexual harassment so blatant,
but also became the victims of pick-pocket....so rampant.
Gone were the hard-earned monthly salary,
for the next month they would go without food.....so hungry.

Once I got onto the bus, I felt so uneasy.
The air was hot and stuffy.
The exhaust was dark and smoky.
My clothes were creased and sweaty.
My head became so dizzy.

Back to back, breast to breast,
it was so packed.
It carried so large a crowd,
and the engine rev ving so loud.
It started to move clumsily at a snail pace,
anxious of getting late, my heart also began to race.
Very often the overloaded bus broke down on the mid-way,
causing a great frustration and a long long delay,
earning my boss's shout and bark,
when I ran out of my luck.

It was many years ago,
the bus was very very old,
the model was out of date,
because it was World War Two vintage.
It was displayed in the museum,
to be auctioned for a million.