That lonely station

The train has come to a halt lonely station

A fully loaded train it is.

The station is isolated

Numbness all around,

People are schmoozing loud

My coach persists pungent smell

Political talks, a bibliophile in another nook

And a music aficionado sits across

A few good men get down to get some water

While some to get the fresh air

In the middle of all this

I gaze at the panoramic view outside

Where the sun is beaming high,

I hear birds chirp

I hear them sing while sitting on the wires

There goes that line of ants in a perfect symmetry

They are doing their rounds of carrying food

How hushed they remain yet they walk

Far across the station,

On the last bench

Sits an old monk

Clad in saffron cloth

Gazing at the lush green meadows

I look at them too

The train gives a whistle

It’s time

It’s time to move

Let the lonely station remain like that

Let the chaotic train pass by

Let the station remain

Remain hushed

Wholly hushed!

Picture courtesy – Internet


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