NIGHT BUS

As though to eternity, the night bus goes

Piercing the darkness, with a rough jerky tone.

A smell of death permeates the air then,

So sad to sit and sleep.

The night becomes darker and cruel;

Terrifying, selfish and strange;

In the dampening dim light inside,

And the deadening chilliness, flashing outside

I am overwhelmed by an overpowering grief

A thought for the uncertain humanity.

A passion for the simple common folk;

As against strange, impersonal cities.

The huge signposts at a faraway distance,

The grim, sleepy faces of the fellow passengers

Along with a desire for a human touch

Warm, soft and gentle to the core;

I feel like crying out for a soul mate,

To save me, ever, from soulless life

For men imparting love in homely tongue,

And the mouths suffused with betel juice,

A proud hallmark of our village home;

Often restores us, back to life,

With a passion, so solacing as a cool shade.