A journey through the hills, waters, fields, cities and towns
A journey through the pains, sufferings, anger and anguish
A journey through laughter, joy, intimacy, bonding and hatred
A journey through the wilderness of thoughts and actions
A journey through images, words, music and colours
This train of life is beautiful to remember.
The passengers come and go
Some look at me and some don’t
Some speak to me and some don’t
Some try to understand and others don’t
Some bond with you and others don’t
Beauty of this journey is in its imperfection
of a journey that is beautiful to remember
The tunnels that I pass through are not darkness forever
There is always a light ahead
The stations come and go
To grab the newspapers, magazines and tea
And to feel the freshness of the break
The temptations to stop at a station remain
But this journey is more beautiful to remember
The toilets are filled with poetry
Creations of many distorted minds
Hatred and love are marked on the walls
With meanings unknown by the poets
Who never discovered the beauty of this journey.
Watch the person who shits on the tracks
Who struggles to shit with no food in belly
And watch the man who shits through promises
And watch the campaigns for a clean nation
A creation of nation through advertisements
An interpretation of cleanliness to become nationhood
With taxes to reduce your own shit
An unbuilt nation with an unclean mind
Watch the person who does not have food to shit
Struggling to shit on my journey
For an unfulfilled promise to produce good shit
My broom alone cannot clean this dirt
But the younger ones are trying to clean this train
So, this journey is always beautiful to remember
Time to get in and time to get out are marked
You don’t control the beginning or end
It is just a movie still in the making
A boiling pressure cooker not exploded yet by heat
The blowing wind gives the smell of life and death
For a journey to make one remember its beauty
A ticket collector came and asked me
Show me your ticket, sir.’What is ticket?’
I asked him:
He looked at me sharply and said:
`You don’t deserve one,’ and passed by
Perhaps he knew that he could not print
The beauty of this journey in his imagination
With numbers of coins and notes
For a journey that is beautiful to remember.
The child in front smiled at me
For a bonding unexplained from within
I smiled back thinking
That this should be the reason
Why this journey is beautiful forever!
K.P. Sasi is a writer, film maker and cartoonist
The strikingly beautiful photo that introduces this eloquently evocative poem remarkably catches the orb of the sun as it shines through the thin layer of Earth’s atmosphere. That bright spot suggests the train and the blue arc at Earth’s edge suggests the track of the journey through life which the following words poetically describe. The equally striking use of the words “shit” and “shits” in the middle section is most effective way to address the less beautiful aspect of reality.
I have never visited India–alas!–and never will (on this journey) because I am nearly 80 years old and “shit-out-of-luck,” moneywise. I am thankful that Countercurrents helps to transport me there, nevertheless; and this poem is a vivid step toward vicarious experience of India.
The final section, dealing with the ticket collector and “the child in front” gives the impression of an actual experience. It shows how “The child is father to the man,” (Wordsworth)–despite Hopkins’ objection.
Thank you for this aesthetic/realistic poem and for the affirmation that “The tunnels that [we] pass through are not darkness forever.” I wish you further beautiful journey, Poet.