Highway Blues

At 3 in the morning
at a bus stop:

amid mosquito bites,
buzzing insects,
train announcements,
police sirens,
staring policemen,
snarling dogs,
hum of truck wheels rolling on the highway,
and the stink of a fellow traveller’s feet,

sleep is desired like cure for the sick;

all in the city where Ashoka fought the battle of Kalinga –
the city which refused to provide lodgings
to two weary travellers on the road
for 65 hours,
at 2 in the night.

regret comes like diversions
on a highway.

I should have never,
in the first place,
left the comfort and warmth of her
home-like arms.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s