R.K Das (22, january / INDIA)
It was raining.
Yes, it was raining
As if the sky wanted to pour itself out
To its last drop of cloud.
The whole town that also includes me
Was in a hurry to catch the last train.
The vendors, the coolies, the hawkers
All had a date with the passengers
To fleece and flee.
The friends and relatives
Were also in a greater hurry to say
A good bye.
The parting hand-shake
Was as brisk as it could be.
The train came to a screeching halt
It whistled its arrival and departed.
Their friends went into a withdrawal
I stood alone nonplussed,
For I have missed the train
By the fraction of a few concluding steps.
The rains have stopped
I stood restlessly silent
Like a patch of stagnant water
In an old pit on an abandoned road
Of the municipality.
Soon I started sweating in my stagnation.
Boredom and ennui visited me
In indolent succession.
I felt I was stinking...for
No home-coming school children
In their white uniform came running over me
With their chappals
To splash me out of my chronic stagnation
No naughty boys of the neighborhood
Came riding on me on their bicycle
To splash me out to my ultimate redemption.
Another time, another day
It all started with a mild drizzle
An untimely cloudburst followed
The abandoned pit was soon overwhelmed
I started trickling out in a lazy serpentine
Movement through the watery furrow.
It was raining...it was raining.
Comments about this poem (STAGNATION by R.K Das )
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