Poem: Stranger on a Train

I took a train from Chennai to Bengaluru, India, and saw a woman’s face illuminated by the orange morning sun. She gazed towards the east and her hair fluttered in the cool breeze of the air conditioner. This sight inspired me to write a poem.

My poetry partner, Priya, also contributed a beautiful piece. Together, we wrote for each other and created something meaningful, despite being strangers on a train.

Poem: STRANGER ON THE TRAIN

Image by StockSnap from Pixabay

It was a fleeting glimpse at first
Amid the tens of bobbing heads
Restless and raucous submerged
In the bogie that I traveled.

It was different, like a flash in the pan
Or like that fugitive shooting star
My mind etched on a simple plan
Just to stare at her as long as I can.

The evening sun, tired and tamed,
Caught staring at her face
His eyes down and blushing in shame
Painting her with an orange glow

Her hazel eyes dipped in honey
Stare ahead deep into the east
Searching for answers one too many
Ignoring the sun’s amorous stares.

Disheveled strands shivering in the chill
Her fingers arrange them in place and still
An unconscious act but a perfect move
Like a smooth ballet for the sweet blues.

The raucous heads that bob around
The cacophony disappears without a sound
I feel that it is now just me and her
At that moment, frozen forever.

It was all well till she turned around
Catching my eyes like the evening sun
We looked at each other, without a sound
But she turned away as if I was none.

For a miraculous moment so nigh
I let go of my dream with a sigh
Alas, she was a stranger on a train
I may never meet her again.

-Ashok Subramanian © 2023

Priya wrote: Ashok Subramanian loved your poem. I wrote, just words flowed. I don’t know if it’s a poem or a story :)

Here goes she.

I sat in my seat, trying to adjust
to the loud voices
and the screaming kids
as the train moved along the tracks
The train was full and I could see
head after head, down row after row
and I wondered about the many stories
of the passengers on this train;
wondered if I knew anyone here
or if a story could unfold on my journey
The air was cooler today,
a few strands of my hair came loose
annoying my eyes, so I pushed them aside
Suddenly, I felt a tingle
a breeze past my cheek
sunlight through the windows
a notion, that eyes were following
my every move
My story …
I quickly turned around
and I saw you
A fleeting glimpse
a lightening impulse to smile
but I just turned back around
as if I was unaffected
I saw you, my story on this train
Were you watching me
thinking to yourself
let me write myself in her life
The train moved on
and neither did I look back
nor did he say anything
but I knew his eyes were on me

~ ©️ Priya Patel, Aug 12, 23 🕉

The regret grows on the protagonist by the minute. So I extended his side of the story.

I wished the moment
To last a little longer
The fleeting bond
Growing forever stronger.

A yearning to talk
Growing by the minute
But my famous reticence
Kicked in thoughts infinite.

By then our destination came
She got up and left
And that doused the flame
Standing was I, my chances bereft.

What if I had just said a hi
It would have been worth a try
The first of many times we could have met
But now I just carry that moment of regret.

The story is not yet over, as the thoughts about him remain with her too. He adds more. ( So I write…)

I close my eyes

and feel the train

the soft stare on my skin

that must be him

for he is staring

far, far too long

I catch his eye

he turns away

probably blushing

like that culprit sun

yet I give him a pass

for I am immersed

in my own world

Is my story untold

Is there a world

where I can smile,

and let him too?

I wish that

we are not strangers

not anymore.

Finally, she smiled. Just at the right time. So I write for the protagonist.

So you smiled at me, dear stranger

The moment turned magical

just when we were about to part

My world just came apart

with flowers, music, and sunshine

filled with the auburn twilight

an evening to remember

we are no more strangers

now familiar with a smile

as we will be separated by the miles

and may meet after quite a while

Meanwhile, my heart carries your smile

and I smile as I de-board

and meeting you again, I look forward.

~Ashok Subramanian © 2023

“…what thrills me about trains is not their size or their equipment but the fact that they are moving, that they embody a connection between unseen places.”
― Marianne Wiggins

… And a connection between strangers, if I may add. Enjoy the poem.

~Ashok Subramanian