Dark night a frontier of silence,
unmoving train, restless passengers
avoiding eyes,
waiting.
Night at the junction, stuck -
women talking in the next compartment,
No moon, one bulb in a railway hut
hangs coldly still.
“Chai chai!” Up and down the corridor, tea, rice cakes, pocket calculators for sale on trays,
a little lad sweeping up crumbs
with a five stranded hand broom.
Civil unrest or a broken engine?
Hints of dark times long gone.
Beyond the window
the lonely bulb unmoving.