October 26, 2008


Sitting at the wheel,
Movements automated
Gears move from first, 
To second, third,
Hitting higher speeds,
They move to fourth and fifth.
No thought on the road,
A blank mind.
Hand handling the wheel, 
Legs handle the pedals,
The music blaring on
Music I do not hear,
Just the sound
That drives away the languor
I look on at the traffic ahead.
All in a state of hypnosis,

All moving ahead, 
In the same direction
At the same speed.
One stops and so do the rest,
One moves, 
And rest do likewise.
No individuality,
All just the same
Image of the one ahead.
The roads are long, 
They are straight
Nothing to distinguish
This bend 
From the next,
All driving along
Waiting for their exit
The one that takes them home.

26th October 2008


Suchitra said...

Watching 'em move
Straight lines of cars
In a hypnotic trance
Of perpetual motion...
I am static
I am free
I am a vagabond
Earth, my bed, sky, my roof
Th endless road

aditya said...

I watch from my car,
As free as I want to be,
Still under hypnosis
But of a different kind.
I fly when I want to,
I soar where I can,
I am held by rules,
But yet I am not,
I am a vagabond,
In mind,
I am a vagabond,
Because I am.