
At a bus stand in front of mall (that I have never been to)
I learnt how to wait and how to live with disappointments
without making a big deal of it.
In the bracket of an hour, I grew smaller than I ever thought I could be.
“this is what love does to you, this is what love does to all of us”, all the voices in me lied.
I was again weary of the love that I had chosen and the person I had trusted
(“again” – the word that showed me the real reason why it would never work out).
I stood beside strangers on the crowded bus stand, awkwardly crying.
I counted these not-so-scary strangers who were trying to become one skin.
I pretended that I hated to be rained on as much as they did.
I pretended that I didn’t mind their warmth, that my suspicious mind was not at work again.
Hours went by, empty roads faithfully stayed empty.
I became more aware of the boundaries of my body
I became aware of the person who would never come looking for me,
who would look at the three hour long rain and still won’t wonder what happened to me.
We all stood there,
pretending to be the only human
in the group of zombies who had taken over a bus stand out of boredom,
who stared at the wide road, the darkness beyond, and the emptiness behind
as if their eyes were made to witness only this moment.
I closed my eyes and hummed something, anything
that could drown the presence of everyone
who knew the sound of my breaking heart now.
At a bus stand, that could protect no one,
we all dreamt of the worst- of the submerged road,
a rain that will never stop, the cold that would take us down for days,
children forever waiting, of the lightning we could hear but not see
of a love painlessly ending and a heart that shamelessly survived.
WOW. Once again your poetry wows me. Such incredible writing. I feel it so deeply. The idea of the bust stop, andbthe emotions you describe. Just wow! You arean amazing poet. You should publish a book, if you can, though Imknow that is not an easy thing to do. Please let me know if ever you do. I would read it.
Thanks a lot dear for your kind words. Means a lot to hear that from you 🙂
Writing a book in my mind is one of the hardest thing ever. Right now I do not have neither much knowledge about the world, nor confidence, nor the discipline for it. But it is also of one of my dream that I write a book. Will let you know if I ever end up writing a book. Thanks a lot for showing interest in my work.
Really glad that you liked my poem 🙂