Like the confluence
of rivers
the junction is a
confluence of four routes
where hundreds gather
for multiple purposes.
One is reminded of a
market
but no, the junction is
not a market.
One day he too
reached the junction
after traversing a long way
rooted like a statue
he stood there
looked around several times
to watch the milling crowd.
Whether to return to the
place where he came from
or catch a bus to
anywhere
he was on the horns of
a dilemma.
While pondering over
various options
he saw a red face
speeding along from the
south to the north
no second thoughts
decided he to board it.
The bus screeched to a
halt near him
he board it
within seconds with a
tremor and
the bus sped along.
Where to get down,
no idea
he told the conductor
to give him a ticket to
where the bus reaches
its destination point.
Reclining comfortably in
his seat
he looked outward
enjoyed the landscapes
until he started snoring
in his sleep.
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