I have just got conceived,
and not all sperms are lucky to have made it!!
A little nudge, a little push and a little lullaby
a distant whistle, a cosy seat….
I think of the past & then the future & what lies ahead
I hear murmurs…sometimes I eve’s drop….
I hear some jokes….I chuckle
I see colors don’t ask me how…
trimester after trimester… I look for the right time
And then there’s a halt….
they say it’s a delay
I want to make up fast as if in a relay
I get to explore my humble and rowdy side
sometime I wonder if I’ve got a twin beside
I get squished…sweaty am I?
And then there’s noise…shouting, screaming,
I tell you it’s a laborious pain….
Trying to push my self out
Ah!… I got delivered, just out of the fully pregnant train



Mumbai locals- rightly called the lifeline of Bombay, carry almost sixty six lakh commuters everyday. Its magical to see the stations swarm with people every two minutes. All kinds of people. All classes, creeds, intellects and variations of the poor and the affluent. Local trains are the mightiest levelers, they do justice, sometimes they are mean......but thankfully, no one is spared.
They are the living for many: beggars, vendors, pickpockets & thousands of people who wouldn't make to their destinations without them.
Locals, have some eternal songs, few almost programmed fights, some fish stink wrapped in the scent of a floral gajra, several devouts deep into prayer, someone sitting in the corner & smiling, observing the one sitting beside, deeply snoring.......children crying, shopper's buying & people engrossed in books or mobiles through these turbid times.
Local trains are such an integral part of many lives, wonder how many people are an integral part of the local train's life.