Treasure Island

Hardik Vaidya

(26 Dec 1969, I won't be dead till you know I am alive. / Mahuva, Gujarat, India.)

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.

Submitted: Monday, April 22, 2013
Edited: Tuesday, April 23, 2013
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Poet's Notes about The Poem

The Mumbai Morning Local train Passenger Review.

Comments about this poem (The Passengers by Hardik Vaidya )

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  • Hardik Vaidya (4/24/2013 5:19:00 AM)

    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. (Report) Reply

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