I couldn't afford,

To live at university,

So with mom,

I continued staying,

And commuted,

To and fro by train.


Occasionally did I,

See doubles of those I knew,

Two doubles of Semanti,

One in a train,

The other at University,

With both did I converse,

Though I never stayed in touch.


A double of my dad,

I also saw on the train,

Yet he was in conversation,

With another man,

So I did not speak to him,

Yet I couldn't help,

Glancing at him occasionally.


Then at the station,

A double of my stepmother,

When I say double,

She could have been,

A mirror image,

I boarded myself,

And watched her board.


I sat in my seat,

Yet a sudden impulse,

Did I have,

To go and speak to her,

At last I rose,

And went to find her.


Not wanting her to think,

I was some weirdo,

I told her the truth,

That she was,

My stepmother's double.


I sat across from her,

And though rationally I knew,

She was not Aunt Premala,

Only someone who resembled her,

And normally I conversed,

Remarking on the weather,

Asking her where she was going,

How the journey was,

Non verbally, my true passion,

It seeped out,

In the way I looked and spoke,

The way I gazed at her hair.


She replied politely but curtly,

And when at Reading,

The train arrived,

She ran away from me,

The lady opposite me,

She said I freaked her out,

Though I couldn't think why,

I had after all,

Told her the truth,

So she wouldn't be scared.


Yet thinking it over,

I guess it must be weird,

A perfect stranger comes along,

Say you resemble,

Someone they know,

And while conversing normally,

Act like you are intimate,

Yeah I see,

Why she was scared.

The End

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