Monday, June 22, 2009

A Day in the life of ........

Those potholed roads lie flat in apathy,
As she lumbers across carrying the load,
Of humanity,

Revving up with a sneeze,

A delighted exhaust blast,
She siddles up to a busstop.

Tired faces at windows,

Nose on the bar,

watching the battle to enter,

The right to a Square Foot o
f Steel,
As other feet fight ,
umbrellas as weapons,
Dripping the pollution of the skies.

Some polite moves,
Some leching eyes,

Body contracting to one side,

She clutches her purse,
and the child holding on
to schoolbooks,
Wet behind the ears,

Shoes stepping on
her sandaled feet,
The toe ring hurts.

And the brown uniform,

taps his punch on the seat rod,

Calls out , and beckons....
"Sir, cant you see,

This is a ladies seat,
Ma'am, come forward..."
And she puts the child ahead,

squeezes against briefcases,
and limbs

Clutching her purse
Getting ahead.

A sudden pothole,

A surprise jerk,
They fall backwards,

They've lost their place,
but fall unhurt,

tumbling over a base,

Cushioned by the humanity
of Mumbai,
Packing the monsoon buses.

They dust themselves,
tucking in dishevelled thoughts,

Collect their bags

and Thoughts,
Clutching the rods once again

Ruffling the hair of a child,
Who stands again with his mother,
Facing another schoolday,
Another bus,
Another crowd,
Another rain....

The same life...........


  1. Beautiful,moving, sad and true. Thank you, Ugich, for the lovely words this morning.

  2. I enjoyed this very much. Your poetry always has such meaning.

  3. Wonderful Ugich, I felt every pothole.

  4. I decided to visit this blog today!

    This reminds me of a trip I took to China last year, the buses were so very crowded. I was not used to it, an experience for sure! You capture the way people remove themselves into their "own world" on a packed bus. Even though you are so close to another, it is very, very impersonal.

    I like it here, I will come back to visit. Thank you for your thoughtful comment on my blog.

    I am in Detroit, USA, and I have a link to a local poet. Perhaps you would like to visit him, I call him
    Detroit Man in my links.

  5. The same tradition continues and shall continue further.

  6. Soooper... so beautiful... so true... !!

    I kinda like all this... really... its like who we are...

  7. Reading your poetry is like looking through your eyes.

  8. So beautifully written, makes me want to just leave everything here as is and come back to experience that crowd and rain and umbrellas and raincoats and the water splashing as vehicles stumble into a puddle of water... oh just makes me realize how much i miss all these things.

    I guess rains have started in Mumbai. Enjoy !

  9. Hi,Im Paddy.ur words,so beautiful abt rains,took me bck to my golden days of student life whn i enjoyd splashing water on my friends n enjoyed whn our umbrellas flew in d air,not to forget laughing at their owners!...nw ur words forced me to close my eyes n recollect that golden era...oh!wht life!i really miss them!today life has changd so mch!nw whn it rains,im worried my sons may catch a cold!if it rains heavily,im worrid my Bai wil take chutti!ur rain poetry has surprisingly made me realise that i stil luv rains!Thanks fr making my Day!

  10. Hi Ugich,
    You have a very nice blog going here. Sensible, intelligent posts and interesting poetry too. Will return for more :-)

  11. Sylvia,Joy,Judy Thank you.

    Lilly Sometimes the only way to deal with potholes is to write a poem about them....

    Lou "You capture the way people remove themselves into their "own world" on a packed bus. Even though you are so close to another, it is very, very impersonal."....

    What you say is so true. We all do that here. Thats the only way to handle the crowd...

    Braja, Pradipda,Hitchwriter
    Thank you...

    Pearl Maybe you can see it through your own, when you visit India it jan'10 ? (just kidding. We have other exciting rides)

    Enchanted Thank you, but I think you are getting blinded by a desperate case of monsoon nostalgia. Travelling hecoming really bad now. Borivli to IIT : 4 hours, before noon, after the first moderate rain of the season....

    Anonymous Thank you. Although sometimes I feel the monsoon is thrilling more in writing about it than actually traipisng through roads where buses splash dirt water right up on your glasses, as they hiss through the gloom.....

    writerzblock Thank you, ma'am :-)