The Trip Poem by Jasbir Chatterjee

Tossing and turning,
With our heads banging
Again and again against the window bars
We moved forward
Slowly and steadily through the slush and mud
Through shallow streams
Across little waterfalls,
Through the safari trip at Ranthambore…

The Canter came to a halt suddenly.
Our Guide got up, turned to face us…
With an amused expression on his face,
Pointed his finger at a tree.
“See that little nest up there?
Swinging so gracefully with the breeze
With a cute little, red beak poking out of it…
And that black sparrow hovering around it, the Kotwal Chiriya?
Named so because it is ugly, tastes awful, and angrily shoos off the hungry vultures and eagles
Away from the shrieking, frightened baby bird while her mother is away…
But where are the tigers? We asked.
Perhaps we shall see one today, he said…

Tossing and turning,
With our heads banging
Again and again against the window bars
We kept on moving forward
Slowly and steadily through the slush and mud
Through shallow streams
Across little waterfalls,
Through the safari trip at Ranthambore…

The Canter came to a halt again.
Our Guide got up, turned to face us…
Cleared his throat and
Pointed towards a green patch…
“See those spotted deers grazing on the grass?
See how calmly they graze,
With serene expressions on their faces…
And those Hanuman langurs up there swinging mischievously on the trees
Named so because they are intelligent and good at heart…
Warn the deers with their shrieks and cries when the lion approaches…
But where are the tigers? We asked.
Perhaps we shall see one today, he said…

Tossing and turning,
With my stomach churning in pain
And waves of nausea swamping me
We kept on moving forward
In sweltering heat in the train
Slowly and steadily through the surging humanity
Through the green countryside,
Shallow streams, across little waterfalls, back home to Delhi, our home…

For a moment, as I looked around at home,
Life stood at a standstill,
I stood at a crossroads,
I pondered and I told myself,
Baby birds are safe in their nests,
Spotted deers are grazing away in the jungle,
Hanuman Langurs are merrily swinging on the trees,
But what do I do about my dark thoughts, the apprehensions, fears, complexes,
That sometimes threaten to wreck my life?
I asked myself…
Like a kotwal bird, I shall shoo them away,
I told myself.