The Bus Ride Home
Is full of observers and whisperers
Every now and then, i find solace in
silence
secrets
and strangers…
the kind you see on the metro
or the bus home every other day,
no particular charm in their eyes,
no sadness,
an acceptance,
monotony.
they listen to their songs,
they stare into the swift stream of towers and trees,
and then into nothingness,
they are creating scenarios in their heads,
they are remembering recipes they must cook,
they are wearing off the brave face they put on today
and now they are longing for familiarity among strangers
so they steal a look at other faces,
they are trying to find the tiredness of their day in someone’s eyes,
they are feeling less lonely in the moment,
they are reaching out silently to each other,
they are saying it’s okay,
we’ll meet here again tomorrow,
and i will keep your secret just as you keep mine.
© Arundhati 2024
