I was in a bus when it struck

I was in a bus when it struck

Twelve.

Waking up from fitful dozing

I heard the yelling and screaming

Of boys bypassing the bus in their bikes

Screaming, “ Happy New Year!”

I look around my fellow passengers –

We have yet a long way to reach home

There wouldn’t be much of a New Year celebration

For us; I love my fellow travelers.

I fall into a reverie, remembering New Years –

Ruefully, I remember those, drunken, partying kinds

That of lying in the middle of a highway at night

That of dizzying hopping from bar to bar

That spent on the top of a hill, shivering in the cold

That by the side of the sea where I would part with my love.

I remember the New Years, lacklustre, spent at home

Indifferent, blank to the gyrating glitterati in the TV

New Years spent alone, nursing a drink, bitter

Blaming self for the promises  unkept, resolutions unresolved.

Chilling gusts of wind blast through the open window.

I remember those who were with us in the beginning of the last year

Yet no more, today, or ever, on another New Year day.

****** *****Balachandran V, Trivandrum, 01-01-2012