A slender red-shirt cladded man,
Carries weight as much as Ronnie Coleman.
A flock of people, ranging from rich to rag,
From aristocrat to rug bag,
Swarming the station for their trains,
All pass through the red-shirt-cladded man.
From the smell of urine to rustic trains,
Nothing deters him as he toils for his daily grains;
No matter whether its scorching sun or rain,
He patiently keeps waiting for the chugging train
With the hope that someone on the train,
Would ensure that his life sustain.
But with the advent of bags with trolley wheels,
His days pass by even without having meals.
He symbolises the sweat and toil of labour,
But in reality, remains a pauper.
As the trains move out of sight in a few minutes from the station,
He too vanishes out of the mind and memory of people and the nation.
He was part of the quotidian events of station life,
Now has become oblivion in our life,
But truly deserves a red salute in his life.
Rijesh Ramachandran is an engineer by education, central banker by profession, traveller and blogger by passion. His experience are his words.