each plank is a year
visible at the break of dawn
a curved turn and it disappears
the path goes on.
stones; laid out all over
sharp enough to break skulls
stones; creating foundation & segregation
stones; that will lead home
two endless parallel rails
the necessary medium for the train
the arrival creates reverbation
an inexplicable commotion
a sound that leaves a trail
silence before and after
heartbeats grow faster
the distance is difficult to scale
a man passes through, crosses the track
alcohol in one hand, in another hand snacks
finds a spot in the field where he can sit,
sips on his beer, the whole field his
for this transient moment he owns the place
he is life, and so is the train.
as long as the train is within his view
he cherishes it, for it is a retreat from the lonesome existence
and the shallow victories he considers unimportant
like the piece of land he owns, and the travellers within the train
going on for some reason, invisible, like tears in rain
the train disappears, and his end comes near
to get up, while the sun goes down
to go back to life, become one among the crowd
but he knows he will come back
for the rendezvous
for this is not the end
and they will meet again;
the man and the train;
as equals & friends.
मंच 