Maruti Naik

Mar 31, 2019

2 min read
Image credit — Photo by Vladislav Vasnetsov from Pexels

I have no train,
that I can just board,
to feel everything come to a halt inside,
to catch a few minutes of peace,
as life rushes on outside.

what’s outside does not matter,
these days to most,
they carry on, their souls tethered,
to their hotspots,
their music, the videos they watch,
their whatsapp forwards,
from groups made up of watchmen,
they have found their train.

i miss the crosswords, i miss busybee,
like tehzeeb, like tehraav,
they are all gone,
time marching on and all that,
landmarks like the Amul hoarding,
consumed,
by the byte a minute channels,
covering 100 news capsules an hour.

a snipe here, a cover up there,
bowing to the powerful,
their questions giving way to ambition,
their opinions always nuanced and balanced,
spin doctors pretending to be editors.

How does one ignore,
that mob beating down someone’s door,
how does one want to pull down,
a scarf worn in solidarity,
just that it has not happened to anyone,
we feel close to, family or friend.

as some people i greatly admire,
pointed out a few days ago,
it’s one hell of a metro our city is getting,
faster than ever before,
a lynching we have not seen,
but we can feel the tunnel diggers,
rumble under our floor,
nothing’s the problem , all is swell,
guess they have found a train as well.

we agree to disagree,
my friends and i,
we decide to talk cricket or the weather,
on politics we concede,
to exist as parallel lines,
never to meet.

we are the trains we board,
we are the companions we seek,
we are the journey we take,
we are the destination we choose.

I write to remember. I write to remain honest. I write to leave a bread crumb trail for my daughter. I write to relax. Trying to impress my better half, I write

Love podcasts or audiobooks? Learn on the go with our new app.