Tale of A Samosa-wala

There stands a man
With folded sleeves and folded pants.
Breathing out exhaustion and wearing a cap.
His eyes keep searching for a bus to come.
He keeps scrounging the furthest end of the road for a bus to come.
Then suddenly the muscles under his face tighten,
The exhaustion is swept away by hope.
He sees a rickety bus dashing towards him.
As the rattling engine comes nearer, 
He reaches out for the basket of samosas which were once piping hot,
But are cold now.
His hands search for some green chilies,
while his eyes remain fixed on the bus.
He hurriedly cleans his greasy hands  with a soiled cloth,
picks up the basket and runs towards the stop.
He remains unaware of the reality until he comes near.
He is not alone,
Several others ,some carrying baskets on their head and some on their 
shoulders,are there already.
An uneasiness grips him,
His train of thoughts is stopped by horn that made a blaring sound .
His consciousness comes to the present and he finds himself alone.
Through the hazy window of thebus he sees the men selling their eatables.
Knowing that he has missed his chance, disappointed is he now, 
Hangs his head low and drags his heavy feet and goes back.
He stands there again,waiting for a bus to come again.