In Pune, 15,000 strongBefore the stage they did strong
All to hear the rights and wrongs
In between the bhakti songs.
Now we find ourselves flyingAt points you feel like dying
Either that, or like crying
For only sitting and not lying.
Oh! To be able to walk
It's a dream or cheap talk
In the jet that did rock
But in safety bearing tilak.
My foot would hang in the aisleAppearing not to be in file
All passengers have a style
Some sitting under a blanket pile.
I would feel the wheel of the cart
With its food and the butter tart
And the wheel of the duty-free mart
At which I did not take part.
The flight seemed to go for everAn endless flow like
The trip was another endeavour
To please the lord, it's maya to sever.
May the source be with you!