inside the bus
we simply are huddled in
we pay and service is done
by chance we oblige for a talk
we visit a lot of places and
had our pictures taken
these matters are not meant
for intimacy, all are casual
we walk in and we walk out
in that long trip, more thoughts,
the last dinner was served
tomorrow we all leave and go
our separate ways, though emails
are given, there is no bother
at the end, we are back into
our real nooks, reading, typing,
thinking again how to solve
the same puzzles which we left.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem