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Mar 2015
Faces unknown, side by side;
Cooperating and mingling;
Looking for a better spot, and yet,
heading the same way.

Everyone becomes equal,
Everyone pays the same fare,
Everyone has a life,
Each as complex as the rest.

Every face is new,
Every mood different.
holding some mystery,
Each different,
None less or more.

A game of patience;
Waiting to reach the end of one path,
And the beginning of another.
A hurry to get up, and get down.

A bus, a metro, a train,
An auto and an aeroplane,
The modest pace of a tram,
The coziness of a shuttle van.

The stories in a public transport,
Are things I wouldn't wanna miss.

I shall never, for the life of me,
Stop traveling in public transport.
Without it, I wouldn't be me.
For me, public transport itself represents life.

P.S. : this is the only poem I have written while not in a public transport.
Harsh Doshi
Written by
Harsh Doshi  Kolkata
(Kolkata)   
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