Round round round

Trina Talukdar

Three million people,
Starting at the epicenter,
The city has grown out,
Branched far, far away.
Buildings, buses, cars,
Trams (“heritage” they’ve been christened),
Parks, zebra-crossings, hoardings,
Occasional trees and
Three million people.

Crowded streets, packed buses.
Even the classrooms are filled
With faceless crowds,
Most look alike,
Some don’t look at all
At you.

They look, of course, ahead.
They look ahead at the door,
Make a run for it as soon as class ends,
They have to get out first,
So they can reach the bus stop faster,
So they can get home faster,
So they can eat dinner early,
Sleep earlier, wake up earlier,
So they can be off again at dawn,

They run to save time,
They take the metro which saves time,
Click away on machines that save time .
And then they take all that saved time,
And put it into a box,
And close the lid tight
So none of it can escape.
And then, they take all the saved time,
And then run some more with it,
Take some more metros, buses,
Be faster some more times,
And look some more,
Of course, ahead.

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"Round round round" by @bongbuzz



  1. Through such well crafted words of yours, comes out the fast city life and its modern citizens who are mere robots trapped in a vicious cycle trying to conquer time in vain…