Bengalore Road - Poem by spiritual seeker
Every time my bus passed this Bangalore road,
It never stopped to amaze me.
The streets are always busy with activities,
Bundles of fresh yellow flowers sold for prayers,
Simple souls standing, enjoying hot steamy sweet tea at small stalls,
Rows of long distant buses arriving and stopping at several places,
Jostling for passengers among three wheelers and taxi drivers,
Burst of laughter, joking, intense bargaining for fares…
These amidst the non -stop blaring of vehicle horns.
Only a few passengers they get,
But yet again, they patiently wait.
Most people here are the poor daily workers,
Wrapped in old shawl over their head and body to ward off the cold.
The well off often looked too serious,
Hardly any smile in their faces.
Often I wonder,
Whose end of life is happier?
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