a bottle of i-v fluid dangles tubes and all swinging wild
from a fist shot bristling
high through the open window of the car
zig-zag swerving
staggering
headlights flashing
horn
screaming screaming screaming screaming screaming.........
and then the silence of the rush hour traffic...
*****
7 comments:
Allow me to suggest another title: 'Off to the Polit Bureau!'
off to where everything goes, ultimately...momentarilly rattling the snarled traffic flow.
I feel that your response in the comment has completed the poem. I quite liked it.
Liked the poem and the comments. The first comment is a fine example of gallows humour :-)
The author's response is also classy.
what i saw was clearly a hospital to hospital rush--from some suburb hospital to tvm medical college hospital...
clearly, they had no time to wait for an ambulance. into the same car and away they rushed, holding the i-v bottle high through the window for the head to keep the fluid trickling.
how can one communicate through words the electrifying panic of that life or death rush.
For the last two years, I have been witness to hundreds of such scenes - ambulances and cars screaming their horns and lights blaring, on the way to the Medical College Hospital near which I work. In the beginning I used to feel the anguish of fellow-beings' suffering - now, a kind of cold indifference has settled in... And if there is one such vehicle in front of me on my way to office, I tag along behind, running after the dying to save my life...
Beautiful, haunting snapshot, Venu.
'And then the silence of the rush hour traffic'... an image frozen in time...
i remember reading you on the same. i too have seen it before. but this time was different. coming across usually don't register because the rays of truth do not penetrate through mind muddied with thoughts. this time it hit me like a blast. my mind was empty.
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