Star Literature
POETRY

Stories of passing strangers

My train just started / I found my seat / When she called me
Illustration: Maisha Syeda

My train just started
I found my seat 
When she called me
I sat down to pick up her call
Sorry
Sorry
Sorry
She said
I wanted to be there, she told me

It was my first time traveling alone
I reassured her it was fine
Fine

She was worried
She was worried about me
And it made me feel less
Worthless that instance

Looking around I wonder
Everyone here is living a story 
A story that they author but don't 
Control, 
Others control it by saying sorry

I was listening 
To the stories 
Stories of other men and women
I would never see again

And I was putting it together 
In my head
A draft of what I would tell her 
When I would meet her 
Again

The story of the man
Sitting with his grandson 
The woman carrying a single apple 
The young man standing in the middle 
Looking tired after a long day

I talked to the person in front of me
She was a teacher 
She loved kids, unlike you 
I thought to myself

In the end I never met her 
Again, I kept the stories 
Of unknown men to myself
The teacher's life was saved within me
The book I bought from the train station 
Was mine now
And I kept it safe

But I did call her 
We did talk
We did say goodbye

People only ever say goodbye 
When they plan to meet again
I hope I never meet her again 
I want the stories 
Just to myself

Nafis Anwar is probably listening to 'Ekanto Golaap' by Indalo as you're reading this.

Comments

POETRY

Stories of passing strangers

My train just started / I found my seat / When she called me
Illustration: Maisha Syeda

My train just started
I found my seat 
When she called me
I sat down to pick up her call
Sorry
Sorry
Sorry
She said
I wanted to be there, she told me

It was my first time traveling alone
I reassured her it was fine
Fine

She was worried
She was worried about me
And it made me feel less
Worthless that instance

Looking around I wonder
Everyone here is living a story 
A story that they author but don't 
Control, 
Others control it by saying sorry

I was listening 
To the stories 
Stories of other men and women
I would never see again

And I was putting it together 
In my head
A draft of what I would tell her 
When I would meet her 
Again

The story of the man
Sitting with his grandson 
The woman carrying a single apple 
The young man standing in the middle 
Looking tired after a long day

I talked to the person in front of me
She was a teacher 
She loved kids, unlike you 
I thought to myself

In the end I never met her 
Again, I kept the stories 
Of unknown men to myself
The teacher's life was saved within me
The book I bought from the train station 
Was mine now
And I kept it safe

But I did call her 
We did talk
We did say goodbye

People only ever say goodbye 
When they plan to meet again
I hope I never meet her again 
I want the stories 
Just to myself

Nafis Anwar is probably listening to 'Ekanto Golaap' by Indalo as you're reading this.

Comments

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