Riding High
By Shashikant Dudhgaonkar
the escalator
Going upstairs in the mall
Watch the entire floor going
down
With unwavering speed
When I look at my feet
Steps feel firm
Yet they melt into approaching
ground
So smoothly
Going down is different
A rising thrill shadowed by
fear
Of placing my feet just
right
On unmoving ground
And I make it
With a flutter of
butterflies
In my chest
A sense of relief
On my face
I turn around
For another ride
Up then down
I watch people riding like
it’s nothing
No thrill no awe
Something to be done with
As quickly as they can
There are matters grave to
attend to
The world might collapse
Fall into a million pieces
If they don’t reach
Wherever they’re hurrying
to
Chandelier approaching
steadily
From the ceiling above
Seemed to smile
Approvingly
As people lined up
Disinterest writ large on
their faces
A machine is doing its job
It’s so mundane
They seem to say
Though what it actually means
is
They’ve bartered their inner
child
For a polished perfected
Boring life
Very well said Shashi. The ability to enjoy every life experience is something we need to cultivate.
Yes absolutely Sadje. Thanks for your lovely comment.
Shashi, your poem brought back the quiet magic of childhood wonder—I think I just felt that “flutter of butterflies” right alongside you. Also, your line “They’ve bartered their inner child / For a polished perfected / Boring life” especially struck me—it’s a powerful reminder not to lose that sense of awe…
Much love,
David
“תודה רבה לך, דיוויד, על ההערכה. שמח שהשורות האלה נגעו בך.
Hope the Google translation has turned out good.
🙏
yeah! that’s actually not a bad translation 😀
😀🙏
Beautifully captured the wonder in the ordinary
It’s a ride into a quiet adventure, questioning what we trade for adulthood’s polished routine
Thanks for sharing!
Thanks a lot Roksana for your appreciation.