The Bus Ride

By Shweta Prasad

The days were sweltering,

with summer that peaked.

Cursing the fan in my room;

As slow as the cold molasses!

Energy drenched me wet,

as easy as the sweat.

Questions kept provoking,

vitiating me

the more slothful, as I was!

Concurring with the progressing blues,

my judgment now,

seemed implausible.

With an invitation

came a knock,

marking my absence with a lock.

Questionable judgement,

still ticked in my head

as I prepared for the ride!

Waiting amid familiar faces,

we saw the bus from far.

Mirage melted down my vision,

a yellow as bright as the scorching sun!

Occupying the platform,

the cartons looked tidy

well-ordered, but

failing to label them-

'Old togs'!

The hot breeze sailed,

cavorting around my loose hair.

Strings of hair fell raw ;

Upon my face,

hesitant to be tugged back again.

Oblivious to time & miles,

jokes & games routed the way.

The ride felt short,

a destination we almost forgot!

Breaks screeched,

the walk was a must.

Once again I fell-

Prey to the searing sun!

I walked, past a rusty gate.

They call it 'Home' ;

I saw a building -

Shabby & messy,

well below par.

Unkempt figures,

brought me back a lost age!

Clothes hung low on shoulders;

Baggy & vapid.

Trailing a physique,

as thin as a rake.

Each child-

Like a frayed thread,

wove these neglected walls.

Fairies & heroes - a chimeric dream!

For tresses weren't made

for pretty frills weren't sewed,

for cakes weren't baked!

Tiny hearts misspelt 'home'.

A word as alien as -

a mother's kiss.

Adrift seedlings,

Of unknown family trees!

Arms wrapped around,

yet names unknown!

Lens shuttered blind,

wan smiles all in one frame.

As snaps repleted pockets,

arms orphaned teensy shoulders!

Smiles broke laws of contentment,

cartons left thankful gestures-

A charity, we didn't deserve!

I drew blank

over the tormid heat.

Or was it the sting of regret?!

Judgements seemed plausible;

Silent by reality that choked.

The bus ride now,

long, heavy and stale.

I fell ill-

poisoned with richness & repentance!

By Shweta Prasad