Mumbai's Train Poem by Rajesh Narayanan

Train just reached at platform,
It was really a long jump.
By hook or crook I landed
At the middle of passage.

Huh! Somebody fell on my back
I slithered two feet ahead.
Person in front, grunted, abused.
I looked away, like I didn' t hear.

Oh.. an elbow is piercing into ribs.
Should I abuse him or not!
Heard before pushing his hand,
'Boss, it's Mumbai's train'.

Two more stations passed,
I can't breathe anymore.
Lifted my face a little,
My hair in somebody's nose.

A 'thud' from back on my head,
I ate somebody else's hair.
Like the sugarcane on machine,
Energy got squeezed from all sides.

Mind was seeking ways to alight,
Body was running then on the platform.
Was that a push or a jump?
Whom do I ask, whom should I fight?

Trousers are down the waist
Shirt needs two new buttons.
Shoes turned grey and tampered.
And I stand as a clown on platform.

Looked around to see the laughter,
Saw many clowns on the platform.
Straightening the shirts and sarees,
Getting ready for another trapeze.

Carrying many fights and plights
As a routine the train runs.
Nobody wants to fight against
The force that worsens their right.

The escapism of middle class;
'Backfire only through the ballot'
Just to suffer again and again
Creeping into the proletariat too?

Wakeup my friends, it's time to fight,
Neither we are clowns nor fools.
Stretch our banners as much as they see,
Piercing their ears, let's march ahead.