AT THE BUS STATION

We were waiting

In the bus station

You, me and you.

You seemed to have doubled somehow

Staring blankly ahead

Careful to not meet someone else’s eye
Trained to be so 

Unmindful of all that goes around
With pain, accusation and the all seeing power 

And of the young man

Occasionally glancing at you

Unable to just pass over you

As if you were just another

Of the objects that surrounded him
(Where you also so?).

When you gaze into the emptiness

He couldn’t but realize

That there were many things

And people all around

Buses coming and going

Stray dogs

The man selling oranges and apples

Who has put up a board

Announcing lowered prizes.

He looks at the sky, the clouds

They are the cheapest stuff around, still

Available to all free of charge

And still damn beautiful

Clouds changing shape, turning and dispersing

In the sun.

It will soon be noon

I eye my watch carefully

The sun was sowing its heat on my brows

My fingers harvesting crops of sweat mechanically

Every once in a while.

The bus that I was waiting for

Became an embodied character to you

Pushing you back a little

As it turned and braked.

I climbed on

Setting off on a journey

To some unknown destination

The bus taking me away

And dropping me off

Into the middle of something

That I could watch and draw.

My sketch book was ready

And the pen.

I looked at the shadows that were

Run-over by the bus

That wouldn’t still let go of it

Chasing it all the way around.

The crows on the buildings railings

Brushing their beaks and crowing

Into the din of buses and people.

The young man eyeing

Another woman who had

Climbed down from the bus

And had started walking towards him

As if in doubt.

I took a seat by the window

And looked at you

Still staring emptily

As we moved of

And thought of that void

That fills one’s life

Amidst the din

Of many conversations

And laughed at myself

Busy with my own absurdity

And the emptiness

Into which objects receded

Which one longed to fill.

The objects no longer seemed to matter

Melting alongside objectivity

Into a void

That crowed

And fell back

Into a mechanical drone

As the bus picked up speed.