Chords of the living

The evening was getting darker...
birds flying back home and trees shying away bye to the breezes

Men at work rushing to their spaces,honking

Chasing kids with their emptied boxes and heavy baggages

Old men great and grey...with tired withered faces..
wrinkled sarees ,strolling the dimmed traces

Right at the corner..the world paused to a song coming from the radio shop.. .at the traffic crossing..as all waited for the red to pass

A melody,a calmness,a memory, a softness
A past,something lost ,a moment,a tragic or magic

A thought crossed everyone's mind...some hummed..some cried...some lived...some lied..

The song had an emotion and the tired ,busy random souls carried it home...

At the crossing...minds met melancholy when quickly the traffic blared