Ride of Pride??? (Chapter 3)

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Six compartments, insufficient,

Swelled the walls,

The tube almost inflated,

It was bursting with pressure,

Unable to hold the human sea inside,

Stops to have its entrances opened,

Ones with their noses, lips and foreheads rubbed against the door,

Out with a gush, barged outside,

Force of a hundred behind,

Hurled the leading players out,

Dumped them almost to the platform center,

Those, still awaiting their chance to step out,

Landed up in a soup, raged a war against the internal flow,

Scrambled their way through heads refilling the tube,

Once again stuffing it up to its brim,

Capturing every inch of fiber, plastic and steel,

Queues to the train, to all its twelve doors,

Were just mirages of how things should have been,

Tidy moments before those doors opened,

Before drivers called masses for some action,

The family shoved aside, out of the line by uncouth passengers,

Forcing their way in from the sides,

Blind to the queue,

As if only fools could be waiting so orderly,

It was impossible to put their feet in,

Confused minds, nudged inside,

Thrown in, out of support, not a rod to catch,

Squeezed upon the public,

Passengers confident of making it,

Still, ran in, pushed themselves into the boil,

Into the already compressed herd within,

Rubbed against, scratched, butted,

Breathless, they were jolted,

Every time a station came by,

Swayed on the public with screeching brakes,

Flocked out a few,

Flocked in more limbs, shoulders attacking,

Then, balance stripped bodies toil on them,

When the ride takes off again,

She hung from his chest, held him across his waist,

While against a stinky armpit,

Locked, and smothered their son’s face,

They stood helpless,

Cribbed over the overloaded AC, crying meek already,

Over hands almost groping her back and belly,

Over station-less pauses,

Overcrowded suffocation under dark tunnels,

Over the voice from speakers pleading to be forgiven,

For inconveniences for those delays,

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It was all her mistake,

Angry eyes hid from her husband’s,

The last and the first time,

All this wasn’t meant for them, she was so sorry,

But there wasn’t a way out very soon,

To reach that door on time, they needed more practice,

Rather, awaiting the last station, was a wiser choice,

Till then, they’d to hold it in surrender,

Completely at the crowd’s mercy…

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Debaroon’2013

(Based on the plight of an NRI family in the peak hours of the day, while traveling along with me by the Delhi Metro.)

 

 

Images from :http://www.ndtv.com

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2 thoughts on “Ride of Pride??? (Chapter 3)

  1. A great perspective of the immigrant’s return! I love this! Growing up in an immigrant country like the US, there are so many family stories of that first day on foreign soil. Even more interesting to take a glimpse into the return journey…..

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