The Birth Of A Poem Poem by Pankaj Prasoon

...that day
i was coming from Howrah
to Dhanbad
on the Coalfield Express
in the second class compartment
i saw
an old man appeared from nowhere
in rags
wrinkled face
unkempt hairs
sifting garbage littered on the floor
Eureka!
he found some broken piece of peanuts
oh! how satisfied was he!
The same satisfaction dawned on the face of that little girl
dancing to the sad bitter tunes
coming out of the old, small and broken harmonium her father was playing with his fatigued fingers.
The train was trembling
making cluttering noise in spontaneous rhythm
the girl was dancing
she was wiggling
her laboriously made breasts were swaying
a perfect waltz
tummak tu... tummak tu...
young and old
sitting on the wooden seats cutting jokes with her
and yes
the same satisfaction
i wonder what the parameters of satisfaction came alive on the girl's face
on her yellow symmetry
and red coloured chin...
i was spreading jam on the toast
and an ad splashed on my inward eyes
the ad published in the newspapers of New York, London, Paris
… a bare-all kid with hungry face
A kid from India
with a broken aluminum bowl in front of him
was lamenting and sobbing-
"billions of children are hungry
donate for them something to eat"
The same India
India of the fat bully contractors, billionaires and millionaire officers
flying high
driving high speed cars breaking all barriers
staying in only star ranking hotels
i have seen the milk powder donated from the world
sold in packets for whitening the tea
in the stores of India
and donated clothes being sold at Janpath and Chandini Chowk in New Delhi
while social welfare plans were hatched in Delhi
The purse of the officers was growing big
contractors and brokers were paying for their stay in airconditioned five star hotels
while on the back side of those hotels
in the garbage bins
the food left over was rotting
and dogs and kids were fighting with each other for the lion's share

A poem was taking birth in me
Does a poem take birth this way?
Probably yes!