The Sixth Sense Poem by Hemant Shesh

At the same time this train passes every day.

I remember the dreams I had seen once.
Those cruelties, Those affections,
Those examinations I had passed
Unfold like windows
Opening in the wind.

I return to the past years hopping over the platform of age
And find myself before a ticket-window.

Nobody knows of the unknown journey and the destinations unknown
Everything unwritten and complete -fades into the noises.
A blurred fog slithers down the shoulders,
Past beneath the elbows, like a newspaper that has been read.
A long wait stuck to the chin.

'Gather the luggage, We're home……..'
Which always begins in a dream.

At the same time this train passed every day.


[Translated by Jayant Goswamy]