The village shop

She sits fanning the betel leaves,
Fanning the flies away ..
Watching the dusty road.
He approaches smiling,
'How are you' he asks,
never a word more,
she smiles coyly,
Gathering her 'pallu',
without saying a word,
Always.
She hands him his roll of beedi,
He pays for it;
Lights one,
Stands there while it lasts;
She prepares a 'paan',
offers it to him
as he puts the beedi roll in his pocket
preparing to go!

He walks away,
never once turning back to look at her ..
She watches him go,
disappear into the distance,
as he turns with the turns
of the twisted dusty road,
leading him perhaps to another!

Day after day,
from behind the iron bars
of the window of this
falling house,
I watch her watch him go,
as my lonely shadow
falls on the wall behind.