THE VEHICLE OF FATE

        THE VEHICLE OF FATE

The wheels don't know whither 

Will roll on they,

And follow as the steering 
Does show the way;
The motor propels the vehicle,
Ahead, ahead, 

In agreement with acceleration 
Well-nick, well-stead;

The clutch, the accelerator,
The gear, the brake,
Do work in tandem, no breach,
No mistake;
And the motion of the vehicle 

Is tied to the whim
The driver gets, of a victor

Or of a victim:
Together they move and carry
The fortune and the fate
Of the traffic syndicate.

The wheels don't burst, nor do 

The paddles betray,
The built-in whole is too safe to
Run astray;
Yet, again and again, and again, 

The vehicle crashes--
It hurtles, collides, bumps, and
Into dust smashes...
The villain ain't 

The out-of-control vehicle,

But the one that's inside,

Behind the wheel;
The hypnotised man dreads not, 

Minds not the hooter to retreat,

And fateful accidents unscathed repeat...

Once 'van of growth', this vehicle
Has gone berserk;
On life and property, it's wrecking havoc.

It's moving like crazy,

But the drugger is dreaming,

And fast into the mouth of hell,
The vehicle is sliding.
Uncatchable is its speed, 

Its drive unstoppable,
And the fatal course does run

Undaunted, unalterable...

Driving drunk, driving reckless, 

Showing-off, over-speeding,
Over-taking, fatigue driving, 
Driving aggressive, 

And wrong-way driving--
These eight bloody tentacles 

Of the road-way octopus

Have closed around the neck

Of the modern Homos.
Yet, the doomed vehicle is running... 

Away, and away... 

With the future and the fate

Of the planet's human caliphate...

  

                               By N P SAMAL

                       poet, author, academic