The Shackles of Being
- a Poem
- by Rukshana K
From the confined train journey
In a city of dreams and screams
I watch them dash a distant hub
For circadian grub.
Parked on the floor beside the door
Watch the disquiet scurry
As they head to a decent or debauched home
But which is their own and known.
Creepy crawly nights, fistfights, no rights
Life I admitted at six
Reluctantly, been momentum on rails
A train journey to nowhere.
No erudite, I extend a hand never to greet
Only to clap and feed
But today as she lay on the tracks
Cut to pieces with her child
I saw the nameless faces turn to me.
Never afar from pity in this city
Chastised at convenience
Why then this longing in strange eyes
For me to haul both those brains?
Yes, I will for two humans
Even if tied to the shackles of being a transgender on Mumbai trains.
Rukshana K
from Mumbai, India, is a freelance content and communication strategist. Her writing skills come in a myriad of styles from poems and short stories to professional copy writing and content writing services for online businesses worldwide.
1 thought on “The Shackles of Being”
Sad state of life for this lot for sure! I’ve always felt we could hv made a solid work force out of them! But alas, governments that still talk of bijli, sadak, paani after 7 decades, what is left to say!
Emotions running deep..