THOR

metal met metal, then mettle...

metal met metal, then mettle.
her hammer met a rail
once and then again

she checks the joint and fittings
listens to the the track and it answers back
one bolt resists
another gives

she does not chase trains
only casing the spaces between them
orange and blue as flesh and bone
with a leg on each rail

sweat beads bend on her face
but her body holds firm
pink grass gently brushes her feet
yet nettle never fully settles

if the hammer laid here,
just laid here
would she lie with it
and just forget the world

a rusty worm
on the horizon arrives
she stays
shifting only to give way

the rust goes past
and the ballast blasts
stained paper squares
that once nurtured samosas
empty water bottles
rolling at her feet
and spit flying
in technicolour arcs

lives crossing her
of meals and conversations getting colder
of windows emptying and screens loading
for ETAs on railyatri

Image taken from Southern Railways Facebook Page

Written by Sada Hasna Manto