The Passengers Poem by Hardik Vaidya

The Passengers



Some holding steel handles.
Those seated, in various scandals.
Asleep, completing unfinished orgies of last night.
Awake, faking understanding of bought press.
In trance, listening to music, cumming to Nirvana.
Extinct relics, writing poems.
Shhh.... The Passengers are travelling.

POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
The Mumbai Morning Local train Passenger Review.
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Hardik Vaidya 24 April 2013

Aswath Raman, thanks. I laughed when I read your reaction on the bomb. I understand you. Look we Indians may be a poor country, I don't believe in the fate believers of this country, but I do believe that there is no point in getting scared of imminent and present dangers as Hollywood would phrase it. Let the world do what it wants, we won't give up our way of living.

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Hardik Vaidya

Hardik Vaidya

Mahuva, Gujarat, India.
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