Morning starts with the drumming of footsteps

Down the busy station stairs. Hordes gather at the doors.

A woman waits, an open book in one hand.

She turns the pages ever so gently

And doesn’t look up to see the train come.

Compartment 2-2

Bodies are pressed inside the cart

They stare blankly at their phone,

And to my left, 

Fingers fervently touch the screen, tap-tap

On the march to school, everyone looks ahead

Some tap their friend’s shoulder as they laugh and make jokes 

While some count steps to the tick of their watches 

A student sits on a bench and gazes at the crowds

As she breathes in the cool air just before class

Huffing and puffing they reach their desks

The hike up the hill was no easy feat.

In her usual spot, she basks in sunlight 

peering through the window glass.

Palms on cheek, she enjoys the last minute 

of silence before the professor comes.

To the library─

A monastery for scholastic devotion,

Noses buried in the columns of textbooks, 

rows of screens with colored graphs

And an anomaly.

On a pillow of papers, he places his head 

as he drifts off to continue his dream from last night.

Evening arrives

professors finish their lectures at last,

students trudge to the Main Gate.

Earphones in, they pick up the pace, 

eager to leave the day’s toils behind. 

She tilts her head to the darkening sky and looks for some time, forgetting the world.

To end the day,

He takes a sip of freshly brewed beer

And listens in wonder at the boisterous chatter 

He smiles to himself and finishes his drink

Drowning out the noise of everyday bustle

He sits on an island of serenity