Afternoon Train

By Ishan Jadhav

Sitting in the afternoon train,

I came across many facets of my disposition,

One after the other, which illuminated my day,

I also realised the destination which went by,

And the changing colours of sky,

Under which the train had sometimes disappeared,

There were isolated trees,

• In far away fields,

Which were upright in the sun,

And needed fruits to drop in its shade,

And birds to rest on its branches,

But some of them withered away,

While some flourished,

My shortcoming, failure on my part,

That I couldn’t look after each of my demands,

Demands which then, looked like those withered branches,

Because, I admit, I was too engrossed,

In the free flowing rivers of my thought,

That the reflections of those which crossed,

Were but , blurred by the stream.

While in the train,

I saw also acres of barren land,

Which had a lot of work to be done,

It was , clueless and baking in the sun,

And a peasant was standing there too,

My face I saw, when he turned around.

By Ishan Jadhav