Lost in Limbo of Transit

My hair’s all rough from the dust and the winds that press my face back.

Let’s close the window.

...

What! Why are you looking at me all weird?

Didn’t I tell you we were traveling by bus?

Oh shoot.

I forgot.

Hehe.

...

So, yeah.

We travel in this bus that moves like

a bullet passing through air,

bouncing over the road.

Its windows crackle like the rattles of snakes.

From somewhere, this squeaking sound also floods in.

The engine roars, its vibrations felt in the ribs.

Smells change from petrichor to something sweet, or sometimes foul.

But the hue of rain remains steady.

So does the darkness that trails the night.

It’s midnight.

I can see silhouettes of fellow passengers, mixed among those of trees in the background,

lit by the deep blue sky that is flooded only by a half moon,

whose shade resembles a little of roses.

Occasionally, lights, warm and cool, flood in from outside.

The bus is almost empty. I can stretch my legs.

The clock keeps spinning around in the same limbo.

Seconds turn to minutes, and minutes to hours.

Just me and my thoughts that seem to never end.

Every little sound travels through bones,

surprisingly lulling me into a trance,

where I am just absorbing the radiance of this maya.

The grace of thoughtlessness is also received.

Moving through different topics in mind like combing hair,

slow, meticulous, but it all gets done.

The cold wind of midnight enters uninvited.

Straps of bags hang above, playing with her mischief.

Almost tossed around I am, when 

It all moves and stops with a jerk.

Running through the rurals we are.

Rarely we see a flash of light.

This place where only plants rule.

I’m living

in this trance of traveling and sleeping,

this duality of wanting my shawl’s warmth,

but not wanting it to get dirty.

...

I guess I’ll have to shampoo.

It’ll be a hassle.

And I’ll have to wash all the clothes, too.

A.V.