Poetry

Aimless Bus

August 10, 2019

I was waiting for a bus- without a destination
That long-awaited bus reached at a historic public meeting
After a summer, a monsoon and a late autumn, after a long wait.

That weathered bus was moving valiantly
That war veteran bus was moving in the crowd
The people who longed for independence and for freedom were touching it
They were touching its window, its body and handle
Also, they were offering their bodies underneath it
Yet it did not touch anything
Its eyesight was going beyond our eyesight
unyielding, steady and sturdy in determination.

The undirected bus does not allow anyone inside
The aimless bus does not let anybody to step outside either
I had this wish to touch this historical legend at least once.


I looked at the autumn clouds
Penetrating through the high-rises and filthy air
With a sudden strike of memory the bus shivered
In utter awe or in panic
The handle of the bus grabbed my hand
Pulling me through a little cave
It told me to go inside
“The dreams have been banned
You could sleep but you won’t see dreams”
The women in the reserved seats told me
”Go inside
You will touch but you won’t get any feeling
You will conceive but nothing will be born”
The old trees on the seats said
“Go inside
You will remain silent but
You won’t have the tranquility”
Its heart trembled like a sea storm
Its heart annihilated
A strong cyclone was pulling me inside
Far away from my destiny
Far away from my dreams
Far away from my childhood

I was losing myself without a fight or hesitance, indifferently
I was leaving behind all the memories
Suddenly i was shocked to see a hand
The hand that touched love of a dark water
Where the intoxicated noon from the smell of the paddy drowned in
The hand that drawn the evening sun and the clouds of all day.

This way my body transformed into poetry
Reaching out to the bus through the crowd I asked it,
“Do you recall this hand?”
Again the sudden strike of memories, again the storm came along
The whole city trembled in an earthquake.

An upsetting wrath comes down in the eyes of the bus
They are countless in number
Spread all over the city with professional skills
Penetrating inert dreams they go inside residential and abandoned house
Take refuge in poet’s pen, father’s file
Mother’s cupboard, lover’s letter, everywhere
A saddening wrath comes down in the fragrance of flowers
Curfew everywhere,
Burning tires everywhere,
Barricade everywhere.

The aimless bus then shouts out in paranoia
“I’m not this aimlessness
I’m not these raggedness”
Anxiety fell upon the passengers,
The reserved seats and
The old trees.

And after throwing 20th century challenge towards sorrowfulness
The aimless bus leaves behind the meadows, the forests and
Goes on to another planet far away from this earth.

And, the passengers?

They feel pain in the darkness
They feel cold heaviness in their chest
In some arise emptiness for they don’t have any address
The search goes on in the darkness
Yet in the furthest Earth gather splitting happiness.

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1 Comment

  • Reply treeniohjelmat.wordpress.com December 11, 2020 at 4:04 pm

    What’s up colleagues, its fantastic paragraph on the topic
    of cultureand completely explained, keep it up all the time.

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