A moment with an old man
Wrinkled face and a puffed lip,
Mended trouser and a mucky shirt,
On a black overcoat in a parapet,
He sat…!
Scorching sun he never cared,
Beedi along his fingers,
Puff after puff, he went on.
Closely beside,
I was looking at him.
The air seem silent, same the road,
Every now and then,
His eye is at the bus stop end.
He was at his gentleman best,
I surely found myself barite funny.
Ttat-ttat, the horn he heard,
His curious eye, his sagging body,
Stood from his seat,
Collected his belongings,
Other end he watched with glee.
Exhausted look, and an over crowd,
Poor old man was left behind,
He saw, it came and it went,
Hope and a wait, only it remained.
He grinned at his fate,
Yet he smiled at me.
Well that was a wonderful moment,
A moment with a old man.
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