A Passenger

As the gloom of the night set in,
the mind lay bundled in melancholic reveries of bygone times,
times when smiles and tears were quick to accompany with a slight of the hand.

The sun had all but dipped yonder, leaving pale strips of crimson swimming in the skies. The swift wind was beating past the sleepy willows as if trying to awaken them from their restful contemplation.

These sights always make one wonder of what lies in them that catch the mind in such a grasp, bringing thoughts from another, like the flow of a trickling stream.

The flowing river swirls round in eddies by the plants and stones sticking up from below. There is a foreboding silence to all these natural events for the onlooker on a moving train, but in all having a sound of their own.

Now, the crimson is replaced by darkness, reminding of the dying embers leaving ash in its wake. Taking all this into imagination, one can never explain the meaning and significance of them in a physical or sequential fashion.

The nature in all its harmony floats in an exalted plane above the mundane human dwelling, like the purity of a lotus preserved in a green pond full of frogs, fish and foliage.

The train lunges forward yet again, smoke billowing, the heart skips a beat.  What a transient life indeed!!