When all the stars gather in your ascendant
your life journey feels air travel.
When they crowd sprawling over some moderate seats
your life journey feels a daily travel in a Mumbai local train.
When they doze off crouching in drab cusps
your life feels a heavy cart drawn with your listless hands.
When they lie writhing in terminal agony
your life feels slouching across the dim way beyond all traffic lights.
And when they cease to open their twinkling eyes
your life feels stark lifeless to resume a detour journey.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A foreboding poem, Partha. Thanks for sharing