Aparna Hari

I stand at the cross roads,
My feet tied to the ground;
With those flashy red glows,
Directing my “human” mind;

I hear the vehicle trample
In the shrillness of the dark;
Like an automated parade sample
Only that it’s not a rhythmic march;

I watch men in armours
Racing across the flyovers;
With their high speed bullets,
Piercing the heart of the roaring streets;

To overtake, to keep in pace,
Was all the aim of that mad race;
“Ne’er mind if a one or two souls,
Got crushed in the pursuit of your goals”;

I try to look into those faces,
Much beneath their shaded blazers;
To find an iota of care and concern,
For those, the “elite” society shun;

Alas! I see not human countenance,
Created by the Divine provenance;
But of the covering masks so beautiful,
Bought with the price of the Human Soul;

God!! The human soul is missing,
Perhaps bartered for a sterling;
Or included in case of vehicle trampling,
Know I not, if it is slowly withering;

Lo! The green light is on,
And in a few second I’ll be gone;
To be one among them,
Competing in the “Survival” game;

But, before I join the grand pageant,
I want to erect a post of Traffic Red Lantern;
That prevents the selfish jamming of mind,
And enlightens the eye of the inner “blind”;

That shines the way to an Existence,
Filled with compassion and forbearance;
With an eye that “looks” and a heart that “feels”,
In this realization, lies the bliss.

Om Tat Sat !

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