In the bosom of platform,




There lay two peculiar lines




Which used to be so fascinating?



In my lovely childhood.


But now the hot potato




Of my cherished heyday.









For I have heard now,




That these lines are parallel;




That they don’t intersect




And the distance remains constant.









But my intellect plea;




Poor will remain deprived,




Because the corruption is parallel.




Weaker will remain underdogs




Because the demagogues are parallel.









Politicians and their electors,




Will remain always in conflict,




Because their ideology is parallel.




General students will always suffer,




Because the reservation is parallel.









Drunkard will remain satisfied,




Because the bars are parallel,




Parallel to each highway road.




Lovers will remain parted,




Because harsh rule of the




Ostentatious society is parallel.









Tell me please, for God’s sake,




Does these lines are really parallel?




Or they intersect somewhere far away.




May be other platform,station.




Or a junction, where number 





Of these parallel lines dwell.

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