Indian Train Going In The Dark With The Pick-Pockets, Thieves And Dacoits As Co-Passengers Poem by Bijay Kant Dubey

The Indian train
Going,
Passing through,
Running in the dark
With
The pick-pockets,
Thieves
And dacoits
As co-travellers,
Co-passengers
Sitting
With you
To befriend
And make you eat
Drugged biscuits
In connivance with
The security staff.

The train moving,
Stopping at
The manless halt,
Whistling
And going,
Passing through
With
Without-ticket
Passengers
Seated on
And you
Sometimes
Standing
On feet
Unable to sit,
But they
Seated on
With the chairs
And you
Chairless.

The train running
Lightlessly,
Dimly-lit
And the ticketless
Passengers
Trying to
Lie down
On the seats
To recline
And sleep on,
There is none
To check
An enquire about,
The bogies
Empty and manless,
Passengers
Have got down
And the fear
Of being alone
Torturing
The self,
Whom to believe,
Where to reach,
Alight from and board,
Where am I going,
God?