The Storm In A Train

sitting by the window,
my eyes were misty,
lost in figuring out what lay ahead,
my mind - drained and aching,
and heart - choking,
as the train
tore through the fields,
and the storm grew in me,
i couldn't say
if it was the dew drops,
about to fall off the paddy stalks,
or it's the tear drops,
before they fell over the edge,
under their own weight;
my eyes were fixed
on the golden fields,
that danced to the music
of the train,
yet my thoughts
were stuck,
restless,
as i longed to be back,
to be hugged tight by the one,
to whom i belong

sitting by the window,
of the speeding train,
my mind too away,
in a distant world,
aching,
the hammer of thoughts,
and the clamour in my heart,
too lost,
to hear the blaring of the horn,
my eyes wide open,
yet i couldn't see a thing,
the restless trains that roared,
the endless farms,
the abandoned huts,
thatched, tiled, and concrete,
the barely-clothed kids,
that stood in awe,
of the rumbling train,
that december morning,
as i clutched my heart,
with a nightmare of abandon,
with no roof,
and barely any layers on me,
but for prayers,
as i waited
to be back,
to be hugged tight,
by the one
to whom i belong

sitting by the window,
my thoughts raced
speedier than the train,
to the one,
who always waited,
but never made it known,
to the one
who's nowhere near,
yet everywhere around, 
restless as i felt like the train,
helpless and lonely,
as i waited for that moment,
when she'd melt,
come, and sit by me,
huddle up close, skin to skin,
my hand wrapped tight in hers,
let her warmth, seep into me,
her undone hair spread over me;
my heart skipped a beat,
a smile began to reappear,
tug across the corners of my lips,
at the return,
of the long-missed waves,
and,
as i rubbed my eyes,
and as the world came to a halt,
reluctant to believe,
it was the train, that screeched to a halt,
and wrecked again,
my dream, 
of being hugged,
by the one
to whom i belong!



© sashikant mohanty