}} Waiting for the Bus to the University |

Poetry at Sangam

SangamHouse

 










Waiting for the Bus to the University

Three dots of a warm foreclosure.
Three dots of sameness.
Three dots of uncertain forbearing.

Three blobs of blue scuttling past each other.

Sloppy hills. Rain speckled streets.
Hawkers in bicycles peddling past
your wakefulness at 8 am.

A weary song travelling through veiled trees.
A mist laden sleepy town. A song shedding its skin,
turning into tender twirls of green,
plant-like, seed-like— 

Hagglers at 10 am, high pitched cajoling.
Two bunches of litchi sold. Reddish baby corns sold.
Ringlets of laughter sold.

Ticket at ten. Ticket at ten.
The driver morphing
into a giant shark in a blue vastness.

Zero gravity inside. Floaters. Astronauts.
Swimmers in Simsang. In a pigeonhole
of despair twenty faces
buried
in a haggard “purrrrrrr.”

Stories on loose. Wild flames crowning
the gulonchi. The trees laden with
a semiotic excess.

Four letters emblazoned in gold.
A lopsided “E” strangely slanting to the left.
A dream pathetically hung in the gate— 

Then.
Before the classes.
Flashy reminder notes
in the android
buzzing,
jostling for attention—

      1.   Pay the rent
      2.   Buy a tank of water from Rambui at 1000/-
      3.   Don’t fall in love.
 
 
 
← Namrata Pathak