People of Mumbai travel dangerously,
They just cannot wait,
For, empty train may not arrive,
You see their body protruded out,
Against the polluted air,
They reach home with a cake of dust,
Masking their body with dirt and sweat.
Many not sure
If they will arrive
In one piece when they will reach home,
So dangerously, travelling in this style,
Not afraid of banging on any pole...
Or sometimes,
Because of a ruthless killer,
The riots break loose and break the roof,
Of train, that throws many people around,
Their mangled bodies don't ever reach home.
Yes, this is Mumbai,
That we all know.....
It is made of people
Who just live each day,
Will they see one more day,
As a lone Mumbaite,
One never knows.....
Your writing so true and so real.
ReplyDeleteIt is so sad and heartfelt but a reality faced each day so many people. I think we value everything else over life ...... or is it just ignorance???
It is not ignorance, it is the helplessness, If people could find work closer to their homes, all this could be avoided, because we have trains every two minutes in Mumbai but there are too many ppl here, going from one end of mumbai to another...
ReplyDeletethanks for visiitng my blog
:)
Pushpee
Very well expressed dear friend !!
ReplyDeleteRia
Thank you sooooooooooo much Ria....
ReplyDelete