The Bullock Cart
The facilitator of fraternity
When I saw the bullock cart gain
First time after many years
At the portico of a hotel
It was not an abandoned vehicle
But it was an old friend!
He was the soulmate
And rolled rhythmically on the sandy roads
When we walked to and fro school
During the late seventies and eighties.
We pushed him forward
At the spokes of his wooden wheels
When he struggled at steep inclines.
Three souls then looked us with gratitude;
The cart-man and the bullocks.
We called the cart-man “Chetta” and “Anna”
All meant “hi elder brother” in Malayalam.
Whenever the cart was empty,
The cart-man called us
“dai kerikko” meant “hi boy hop on”
It was a fraternity facilitated by the bullock cart.
On rainy days he came with
Temporary arched-roof made of reed mats
We sat on sacks filled with hay
Enjoying the music of rain
While the bullocks strode in delight.
Now, engine driven vehicles
It do not need our helping hands
And no more it can facilitate
The kind of fraternity we enjoyed
In abundance, during our school days.
#openpoem
