My days are somewhat similar now,
like walking across a wide plateau.
In my life, though, one day stands out
from the long series of carbon copies.
I had flown at night into the dawn,
from Bahrain to Gatwick, London:
the first time in the country of my forebears.
Through the airport shuttle windows
I soon noticed the humorous billboards;
subtle humour which put me in a good mood
when I stumbled into the backpackers hostel
in Earls Court carrying baggage from the past.
After dinner I went to the lounge
and watched some black-and-white television:
I saw the Prime Minister, Harold Wilson,
talk about devaluation and inflation:
'We have decided to devalue the pound.
That does not meanthat the pound here in Britain-
the pound in your pocket-will be devalued.
The pound will not be floated for now'.
After saying goodnight to my fellow travellers,
I got into my dormitory bed and soon fell asleep,
after checking on the pound in my own pocket.
-23/24 November,2017.
-22/23 November,2017.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Memories sometimes travel as for you dear sir. Let it be quoted.... Reassured about my own money, I said goodnight to my fellow travellers and got into a dormitory bed, soon fell asleep after checking the pound in my own pocket. Thank you for sharing.
Thanks for your knowing comment. Yes, I did this travel when I was thirty and staying in a backpackers hostel was no trouble. I wonder: Have you travelled much outside of India yourself? Travel gives you many advantages for writing poetry.