Trainscapes Poem by babitha marina justin

landscapes
jog with me
during my
long journeys;
they spread wide
to the horizon
some rise up in
craggy mass
then fall into
watery
declensions
shuttling the
frontiers.

a blind singer
played percussion
on a concave drum
tailed by a girl
in sari tattered,
torn blouse
fallen sequins,
half-worn
in her sojourn in poverty
a while ago,
a chirpy
young boy
in an oversized rag,
moped the foot-printed
train floor
on all fours
his non-stop chatter
earned him a few smiles
extra coins
an overdose of benevolence
and he left behind
the ugly grin and stench
of life
that lingered over
deos and sprays.
- waterless loos
crusts of
fossilized excreta
never-ending
woes of travellers
eager to get back:
home/work-

drones wane
at the glimpse
of journey’s end

(never-ending
cups
of sweetened tea
unshelled
peanuts
for ‘time pass’
trinkets,
smuggled
Chinese goods)

beggars parade
in different shapes
and handicaps
a puckered blind man
displayed his stumpy arm
dangled another
like a molten pendulum
he too gained our pity
appraisals
a few sorry pennies


the more grotesque
the more you sell
another hobbled in
legs burnt to splinters
all looked away
extending blind alms
I fished out a coin too
from my empty purse
and I conveniently
turned my eyes
away to the
lure of
trainscapes