That I am not a cab driver, no question there is,
Nor have I plans for a switover of profession.
Reach I the workshop driving my own car,
Never look for passengers to earn side income,
Nor have inclinations to offer lifts,
The good samaritan instict, being an exception.
In a wilderness of office goers jamming the traffic,
Riding a car meant for four, I do play a part.
Then a companion gracing the windscreen, I noticed one day,
My favour,someone that had never earned.
Its warm to have a companion, here ofcourse,
Than not having one living creature at all,
And being all alone.
Amidst plastics, metals and glasses,
Things that don't breath, only respond to commands,
A sense of connection, you do feel,
With a single living being, close by.
Communication unspoken, a peculiar flow,
The atmosphere so calm, pervades.
