Homebound

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Homebound

Legs trudge.
Hands carry bags.
Tired faces look forward
To that one place called home.

Thousands on highways,
Leaving behind dreams,
Facing the odds and the summer sun
To reach that one place called home.

Some walking as whole families.
Some alone.
Some with neighbours and brethren,
Moving together
Towards that one place called home.

Some riding in concrete mixers.
Many crammed into trucks.
A few pulling pregnant wives
In handmade carts
To reach that one place called home.

Some without money.
Many without food.
With sparse belongings
And broken dreams,
Braving every hardship,
Trudging mile upon mile
To reach that one place called home.

Women delivering babies on highways.
Men dying on railway tracks.
Buses colliding.
Trucks overturning.

Exhaustion killing.
States disowning.

So many unable
To reach
That one place called home.

India is moving.
India is crying.
India is dying.

India is shouting—

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