Waiting For My Late Night Train Poem by DASHARATH NAIK

Life sleeps on the busy platform at peace
oblivious of everything, grand or gloomy
late at night when everyone is there though
none bothers to notice whether one is busy

Police with dancing batons hold their posts
the lone tea-stall like a star flickers off & on
tired vendors with stuff lye vigilant on floor
trains whistle and rattle at a speed unknown

Life uniquely one's own finds its true beauty
in neon light, the platform blushes like bride
numbers in red glow in the hanging boxes
signifying details of train/s marching ahead

Sweepers are found showing skill in silence
for the sake of duty, assuming their status
the rusted chairs and benches all occupied
the floor overfloods with children and adults

Some busy on the kadappa tiled pedestal
scrolling phones below light-posts and fans
some absorbed on the pages of newspaper
looking for breaking news, drab or serious

With my shadow, I witness the grand show
waiting for my train, noting life's tiny bits
throbbing absolutely with heaps of sacks
the night glides & slips without my notice.

©® Dasharath Naik