An Indian adventure- summarised in poetry

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Catching the train made my heart skip a beat ( the 120 seconds that it was meant to stop were ticking off)

in my head, like a hypothetical bomb that would explode in the face of my travelling plans, if i did not get in.

The door handle is jammed.

My heart falters,

my plans quiver helplessly in my over-excited mind.

People instruct – direct – redirect

my feet shuffle self-consiuously 

in front of the massive blue

Chennai Express,

Unsure.

Especially since sign reads-

‘Lalbagh Express’.

Ohhhhh. Two options occur to my sluggish,

caffeine-deprived instincts-

pray to all the Gods that this is the right train

Or,

Ask someone.

I do both, one after the other,

tumble into the train ( which is still in fact stationary 

but not in my head)

Find seat number 58 (discuss alternate seating arrangements

with half a dozen people) Smile. Sit.

Wait for the ‘kaffee kaffee kaffee’ man

to open the carriage door

and start speaking the coffee into my head.

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