an evening to glide...

An indolent self indulgent me
Go out to get the evening air
and to cheer up to the living taste of life...
buzzing...alive...

Soon finding myself on the road towards the bazaar...
I go by shops half open friday night
And a small queue by the wayside
before the panipuri stall doing brisk business...
And someone in a black dress...
asking for more chilli...more fire...
her earrings trembling in the air
as she moves to see my passing by look...
she stares and the panipuri drops
instead of the leafy bowl...
on the dusty leaf strewn floor...
a ripple of laughter breaks...
I glide to get into me whatever it takes...
at one corner with a lot of marigold flowers
like a heap orange and yellow the old woman sits...
I nod my head and she greets
'Good evening...'
her wordless mouth utters...
I glide by the factory manager's quarters...
The portico looks vibrant as ever
The brown oakwood door with a copper lever
Shines marvellous under the yellow light
from the first floor the piano sends a flow...
I picture her hands on the reeds running slow...
I glide...

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