No Name

No name

   In the morning,

I awake

With high expectations

Of what the day would bring.

  A race against time is at stake

A transit to my place of labor

I would undertake.

  Along my path to the bus stop

I walked alone

  It wasn’t reality at all:

My shadow and the sun

Took to opposite sides…

  On the spot where I would wave the bus

I pitched my frame;

A moving vehicle came to a halt.

   I disappeared from the morning heat_

Squeezed in through the horde of commuters_

To slip into my seat

    Nothing seemed to be moving

 Though I had a fair share

 Of the morning’s fresh air

    The surroundings sped past…

 Snapped away from my stagnant spell,

 When I realized the vehicle was moving fast

     None compelled my senses respond:

 The moving train of buildings;

 Clouds on cue

  In a scene blue hue

     Along the side path; pedestrians

 Otherwise, heads thrust out through windows

 For exchange of relevant gestures:

 A smile or frown;

 Antics of a lovely town

     Towards the bridge

  I came across an exception…

 The impression I caught glued on to my memory;

 A surge in of details that gave reason to worry

   Though we differed in distance,

 At the moment,

It seemed the sight between each of us

 Would lie at resonance

   A boy meters away…

Unlike the others,

Carrying a bowl with sachet of water-

 He had no word said;

Just stood there,

Nursing the wounds that seemed obvious

  None dared care;

His face at loss of original character:

The expression of a sincere smile-

…Unwinding back

    Erect as if unmoved,

 But Lost in a world filled with neglect;

A world he didn’t choose:   

From the bare of foot to the broken bowl in use

    Nothing to take to

 Save the torn off shirt

 With bleached trousers covering under.

     Nothing acknowledged of this child;

  Perhaps his birthday…

    The details on him, vivid by contrast_

Across the scene the bus sped past_

My eyes panned away;

Then I paused for wonder:

How the future of a boy

Is clouded up, not being seen at all

Courtesy; the cruelty of a human being:

In robbing off his pride and joy…

     I emerged off the vehicle;

 My tear drops bulged spherical

 As the passing time stood still,

 The brief encounter towered my emotions to the fill.

    Though I reported for work,

 My mind did the less of the assignments.

 I resolved to conclude in a hurry,

 To see the boy once again

    In the bus:

 Heading for the reverse direction

 I looked out for the little boy-

 The traffic lines piled across;

 As the brakes aligned the bus

 With the moving column_

The tension within me piled up,

 Just as the traffic did in the bridge just on top

     Any moment from now,

I would see the boy

With feeble hands thrust high

Suspending a broken bowl_

I was unsure whether he would be made whole;

Satisfied at saying goodbye…,

And retrieving a name

For a once-complicated frame

He was not so:

I beheld a little boy

Clenched by arm

To the palm of a man

Claiming official,

Dragged across the road;

As the passers-by watched…

He cried so hard,

And tried to escape for free…

But the grip was so firm

That he took to shouting out for help

Only few took heed

At his dire moment of need_

We wheeled toward him slowly,

Till he struggled through, just behind my window:

Help me!

He said;

Like someone that would be dead for soon- 

I froze up, when he shot a gazed at me.

The bus gained in momentum_

Few people musing for sympathy_

As he slip past

I awoke the next day

At the break of dawn:

I was troubled moving off

From where I laid in

Reminded of the fact life goes on

 After my trek took its turn

I pitched my frame;

Haunted by the sad memories

Of the boy without a name...