to an airport and a plane
speeding
from hatred and insanity
there
was a bus
that
caught a stone
and
held a scream;
there
was a bus that left for Trichy
but
skidded off the road
to
end in a city,
that
Delhi of centrality
of
apathy and political calculus
Delhi
of a Shining India
that
displaced chauvinism off-shore
but
found that ideas don’t leave
like
people do, like guns do, like money does;
there
was a bus that caught a stone
it
is the bus that Delhi didn’t want to take
but
that India found herself trapped in --
and
here
in
Sri Lanka
we
look across the water
we
see and shake our heads:
‘Sorry,
wrong number,
sorry,
wrong bus!’
this your 'poem'surely will catch a lots of heart passengers and travelers across globe for sure and in return they,the people against 'crime and terror, insult,disrespect' will send you i believe a huge basket full of flowers
ReplyDeletei like this poem a lot, a different one.