"The Hero"
The title character of this dramatic monologue is never named, and the only physical description comes at the very end when he describes himself "small" and unlikely to ever be thought capable of great feats of heroic strength. The opening line indicates he is speaking to his mother, so very likely he is a young boy.
The bulk of the poem is a narrative related to his mother in which the speaker casts himself as the star of an adventure story. His mother is throughout portrayed as a damsel in distress whom he is forever protecting and saving from harm.
He fights off all dangerous strangers while constantly comforting his mother that she is safe with him by her side. After finally staving off the last threats, he bemoans the mundane quality of real life and asks why true stories are never as exciting as the ones made up.
The Train Watcher, "Railway Station"
This poem is another dramatic monologue, told by another unnamed speaker. He comes to the titular setting every day just to sit and watch the passengers coming and the passengers going. Very quickly, the speaker establishes that he is no ordinary onlooker.
He suddenly refers to the scenes he witnesses as "moving pictures" and the crowds become players on a stage. Then the moving pictures are reduced to the single image on a reel, devoid of movement, but becoming a photograph that remains in his vision for just a second before being erased and replaced.
Finally, the film is replaced by a canvas. The speaker has come to an epiphany. The entire world is a painting, but one that is constantly in flux, incapable of being owned because it is never finished.
Baraj Lāl, "Broken Song"
Baraj is an old white-haired man in a turban who has shown up to sing for the king. He has been not just the king's favorite singer, but the only singer the king enjoys. A younger singer precedes him and the courtiers around the king are astonished that the he seems unimpressed with his talent. When it times for Baraj, his voice is weak and the courtiers ignore him with some even falling asleep.
Sunayanī, "In the Eyes of a Peacock"
The speaker of this verse is a poet who is sitting on terrace writing in his notebook when a peacock arrives. The bird looks at him with indifference to his attempts to write. He sees himself through the peacock's eyes and is moved to question the importance of poetry in the overall scheme of things. And then another visitor arrives, his granddaughter, Sunayanī.
Because she is such a good listener, he has conferred upon her the privilege of hearing his poems before anyone else. Expecting her to be disappointed when he tells her he has been working a piece of prose, she replies that she will accept it. Then she adds that in his hands, even prose sounds like poetry. Upon hugging him tightly around the neck, an exchange ends with her asserting that she is responsible for the poetry he writes.
In that instant, Sunayanī—his "Morning star"—erases all doubts about the importance of poetry in the grand scheme. She is his muse. Through her his poetry is capable of scaling the highest peaks of the indifference as situated within the detached stare of the peacock.
