Cradle to home

My favourite poet is Gurudev Rabindranath Tagore. There is no feeling or emotion which he has not touched through his works. To even think that I can work like him is too much. His works always touched people.

courtesy: Wikipedia

Still based on today’s prompt, I am trying to think. If Tagore were to sit in a bus that is bringing software professionals home on a monday evening, how will he write:

As the day comes to an end, the colors of the sky change to a mild mix of orange and yellow. The twilight brings with itself the end of a working day. A monday evening for most is the day to prepare for the whole week’s work. Still for a mother its the time to go home and meet her children, for a wife its time to prepare for dinner at home and for a manager its time to sit for a weekly status call. As people come and sit in the bus, they look around and find most of their bus mates fast asleep. As the bus begins to move, it seems as if a cradle has started swinging slowly and like a child in the cradle every person begins to go to sleep. The bus passes through the office area and the market. In between it gets stuck in the traffic. The traffic noise does not affect anyone as most of them have earplugs on with songs running on their cellphones. Soon the bus the reaches the residential area. Here it stops every 5-10 minutes. Due to the breaks, every person starts waking up and gets down at his/her stop. Then they walk home yawning all the way.

The twilight gives way to the night. Everyone is at home giving finishing touches to their day’s work and preparing for the next day. The sleep of the bus hasn’t left their eyes which are just waiting to close down again. Thus a bus ride from workplace to home is like a cradle to home. I get the best sleep in bus. Let me know if you have had any other experience on the way home.

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4 responses »

  1. Pingback: Daily Prompt: The Sincerest Form of Flattery: | Chronicles of an Anglo Swiss

  2. Pingback: Daily prompt: Sincerest flattery | The Wandering Poet

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