A Poem I Should Not Have Written

At the Traffic Jam
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I remember the old thrill of driving my cab
Years ago as I drove breakneck
And now, long before the road could end
The cab has slowed and halted abrupt.


A long and lonely journey it has been
In the wilderness of indecent rejections
Aha! The glorious end is just in sight--
But how do I trundle up to that?


The past, no longer it makes me feel
Great, insipid like an old chewing gum
But how on earth it feels to reach the end?
Dreams made to happen and credo vindicated?


There is no way, not an inch ahead
The asphalt lost in the thicket of wheels
And the future would melt in waiting.
And get mingled with tut-tuts and sweat.


Encore! Carry on man and go ahead
The real thing awaits you at the end
The call is ardent but my guts scrambled
Who can help me in this lonely passage?


The sun in the sky roves all alone
and on and on for myriad aeons
Tired of working hard? No, never he would
But how do I do that for you?


I'm a man, just good enough for a single ride
A Styrofoam cup to die with a single kiss
Before discarded into the garbage dump
So, tell me, my deliverer, how do I linger on?


Oh, the present is painful, full of demands
Demands that compel me to confess and conform
To love and adjust where I should hate
My saviour, can't you make it tick quicker?


The cab lies in the middle of nowhere
The reverse blocked and the front occupied
Only the sky above is free, but out of bounds
Or, is it time I travelled upward?


I wonder who'd audit my balance sheet
Lacklustre, banal and would benefit none
I can't afford the seasoned auditor
To slog through my registers humdrum.

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By
A. N. Nanda
Muzaffarpur
26-10-2008
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