Tuesday, January 25, 2011

The Green Mahogany Window




























A skip and a hop
over puddles and pot holes
in sync with the song
in the corner of her brain.
she taps her feet
covered in ballet flats,
now splattered
with spots of brown.

Beneath the jacaranda tree

a green bamboo cart stands
with mangoes of all sizes
yellow, like soft sunshine.
a thin mustached man
leans against it
arranging the fruits
one at a time
one above another.

Across the chaotic road,

with calculated swift strokes
she sweeps fallen leaves
dried, curled and wrinkled
off crowded pavements.
the sound of a bristly broom
against the sidewalk
drowned by the roar
of shiny three wheelers.

My eyes wander

as i look out of my freshly painted
green mahogany window.
i sip the last bit of my coffee
all set to bury myself
in the collected stories
of an Assamese writer.


* First Published in Asia Writes, January, 2011. 

1 comment:

megha said...

Prarthana...I love you ...you write so so so well!!!

hugs