Lust in a Train

He sits across a couple of rows
A fleeting glance, it gets locked
I gaze out the window
Turn my head, I'm locked too

Perfection. The look. There is no other word
Polar opposite otherwise, I presume

Salt and pepper, looks clever
Sharp nose, trimmed black 'stache
Long fingers, three rings
Tucked out shirt, no binger
Fair and handsome
A product of the genes and not a factory

But, there is a Crimson tilak,
Probably listens to Uddhav, the shark
Has a wife, an ugly beast perhaps
And has a business that pays him in heaps

But again, conservative, religious,
And worried that I'm looking back at him

I chew the salted nuts, hoping they could be his
He shifts uncomfortably, and starts his routine prayer

Should i leave him alone?
He's too good to look at!
Is he going to come home?
He's too proud to do that!

I stare on and on, and
every thirty seconds, he catches me
Just the fleeting glance of lust
Of what he lost out on
Because society forced it on him

Society overcame him then
It does now too
The seat vacated next forces him
To readjust himself significantly
So that our eyes won't meet anymore

I start typing this
I get busy at this
Five minutes on, I look up
He's still staring at me

He wants me, but he can't
I want him, but I won't

He dozes away at Bandra
His head bounces up and down
I wish, oh how I wish, I were the reason
And not the train and the gaps in the tracks
And then a crowd blocks my vision
Hell, I won't mind pulling a Kasab, to get my view back

And then I see him staring at me
Eyes locked, not wavering
Had he decided that Sena is sin?
And sodomy is in?

I feel the stirring, a bit of hope
The train will be near empty, it's Dadar

It's my stop but I'm lost in him
And I don't feel sorry
Not for me, but only for him

I feel happy that I made a Sainik
Regain his conscience
Perhaps it's not much
But it's a start, or a semblance