the TRAIN – a Journey containing Journeys

the TRAIN – a Journey containing Journeys

Every morning, I would take this train to work. It has a pretty good service and I don’t have to wait much if I missed one. The train, that takes me to work everyday. It arrives and I step in it. Well, I don’t have to make much of an effort for that, my fellow passenger crowd behind me are enough for the job. They just push me along and set me inside the train.

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Now, I am in the train! I don’t get to sit as it is too crowded and the seats are already occupied by the ones who make a sincere effort to get one for themselves. I am not really bothered, I am happy standing holding one of those poles inside my coach.

I look around and see many people.

An old lady going to see the doctor because her knees are hurting and she couldn’t take the pain anymore. Well, she had to come alone because her children are all at work. Poor her! I thought.

Another woman with a child. Guess, she was going to drop the child to the playschool and then she would go to work. I thought so because she was dressed so.

Many other men and women either sitting or standing, waiting for their stop to arrive. Few of them have started to know each other because they travel together every day. Busy chatting and discussing about something that I am not aware of.

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A group of college kids, looked so to me, cheerful and happy with their young age. Hanging their back bags laughing and enjoying the journey. Some of them reading newspapers.

Many people sitting or standing silently not aware of the person standing next to them as they are wearing earphones busy listening to something (I am not sure what they must be listening to though). It could be a song, some morning news or something. They occasionally nod their heads as well. I guess may be they liked the music they were listening to or just agreeing to a comment someone may have passed on some subject on radio. I am not sure!

Sometimes, I also see a group of transgender people travelling with us. They generally earn their bread by going to households where there is a new baby born. They would go and dance there, and would ask for an unimaginable amount of money. I am not sure if there are any other jobs for them in the market or they just simply choose to do this traditional work as it is much easier. I am no one to pass a judgement here.

This is a daily scene that I live while traveling in the train to work. The train takes people to their destinations, help them earn money and take care of their families, help them to aspire for more in life, becomes a part of each and every one of those thousands of people’s lives who travel in it every day.

The train that runs without fail everyday,

be it hot and sunny or raining outside,

be it pleasant with breeze or bitterly cold,

the train never stops, it goes on

some of us, take an off on some days,

but dedicated train shall run even on a Sunday,

the train I must say inspires each one of us,

the train, determined to serve the mankind

the train and its never ending journey

a mother journey that comprises

of many small baby journeys

traveled everyday!

The Train!

mySestina observations…

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Mrs. Sprout

Mrs. Sprout

Today I want to talk about Mrs. Sprout. A lady from our neighborhood. I have known her since my childhood days.

I never got a chance to learn her first name. She has spent all her life thinking about herself. She was never a kind person and ended up hurting a lot of people with her cruel words. She was always under the wrong impression that she had  a pretty face and all her life she cried over petty things. She never sympathized with anyone and have always blabbered her fake richness. A soul full of greed. She has always been cunning and has tried her tricks in many ways to hurt others. And on top of it all she is one lazy ass on earth.

In spite of all the above sad qualities, she has the heart to expect sympathy from people. I wonder why and how could she want to be sympathized or rather be pitied at. I guess it gives her pleasure when people pity her. Only people with low self esteem could enjoy such a thing.

Her personality and nature has made her own children dislike her. But, it doesn’t really matter to her because she does not have the ability to realize how hurtful she has been to even her own children, or may be she understands it but simply chose to ignore.

Me, mine, myself – explains her very well.

She died today, alone in her house. No one was around her, not even he children.

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