Crossing: A Poem by Sai Priya

Road-crossing

M.Sai Priya

Stood at the edge of a road looking at the truck that was about to pounce on me.

Moved a few steps ahead and waited for the truck to pass... 

And there! Where did this cab come from?

Walked back, where a man was gulping hot tea at the corner of the street.

Looked out, two sides of the road and noticed a fruit seller shouting out loud the prices.

Worried about being late, took a step now again and managed to reach half the distance.

Started gaining confidence when I reached till the middle of the road.

Now a beggar intrudes from somewhere into the scene and asks for money.

My hands reach the back pocket for a penny.

There it is again! Jammed everywhere with out a single square feet left to walk.

Stood for a while and saw a bullet bike which honked its throat out and released its smoke with unnecessary noise.

Waited for the old scooter to move forward as the man struggled to move it when it stopped all of a sudden.

Watched the men on the other side spit  mitha pan colouring the road red.

Popped out of the divider quickly without caring for the motorcycle which came to hit me.

Saved again, just by chance as everyday; crossing the road is a skill in India.