The Subway Ride
Mrridul Nath The train moves, I move, do I hear some noise?
The dialects outside suddenly change
I hopped on to the moving stair And I can’t understand a single phrase,
Full of peak hour crowd rushing I have been carried off to who knows where
To the 8.45 tube to downtown near Tearing the ties with my primordial sphere.
Seething in the chilly winter morning.
Slowly I gain sense from my deep slumber
The doors slide open and in a moment As I see the daylight, my destination is near,
The seats are full of commuters office-bound, But, where am I? I can’t recognize the place
Within seconds the doors close and the train New people, unknown language
Takes up speed into the tunnel underground. My familiar station, stalls, billboards, no trace.
I’m seated in a cozy corner, curled up Some young ladies stare at me as I look in wonder
Between a railing and a woman with a baby bump They hum a sweet lyrical unheard number,
Holding the day’s newspaper in my hand, I ask them, which city is this? For me it’s a riddle -
I read the sports pages first, then the art reviews They don’t know my language. Which country?
Before I move on to the headline news of the land. I gesture, they look at each other and giggle.
I feel drowsy as I was awake last night I am lost at last, how, where? I ask myself
The first station comes and goes and I run to the streets the name of which I try to delve,
More people get onto the coach than they alight, I’ve arrived at a land whose latitude - could be any
I can hardly read, I roll with the train The script is bizarre and language zany,
And my eyelids try to stay open in vain. Of their currency I don’t have a single penny.
The pages appear cloudy white, blurred The people look like me but seem happier
I doze off into the depth of unconscious Healthy built and in size too bigger,
And with the noises around unheard, Oh! I think I’ve to start everything from a scratch
My vision becomes pitch dark, black As if I’ve been born anew and still crawl
As the train trundles through the subway track. Or escaped from the open night latch.
My senses are numb as people around prattle A newspaper boy shouts with breaking news
I forget the reality, the monotonic rattle, He hands me a paper and runs to the crowd,
As if sliding through the shadowy burrow, Shoved into the station again I board a northbound train,
Deep deep into the unknown zone Still in the grip of somnolent stupor and pain
With none of my kins to follow. The train moves on and I drop off again.
I feel carried into inner womb of the earth It’s not too long before I’m awake at most
Wrapped in the veil of time before birth And spread the front page of the evening post -
Like in the placental fluid floating, “City’s First Baby Born On Underground”.
And peacefully sleeping in a jellied coating I recognize the mother’s face in the photo and
With motherly warmth and care doting. Oh! I say, I lost my day and the way I’ve found.
