Away slid the black tinted window,

now my fingers rap on the dusty steel rails.

Framed by trees and birds in flight

it looked like a sketch-

but alas still not worth noting .

Bland and white. Glassy and edged.

An alien on the blue of that Bangalore sky.

I listen to the clatter behind

and am reminded

when a friend and I

sat in silence.

It’s surprising;

the graffiti covered walls

are yet to fall

bearing all those verses

from so many poets.