Atta Market, India

Atta Market
Sector 18
The sweat drips
Down my back
The shoe wallah
Hits the sandals
In the street
Clapping
To the mahem
Of clothes, bags,
Bangles, childish
Windmills
Watches, pajamas,
Momos
I enter into
A shop
The AC stings
The droplets
Running my back
To catch up:
300, 400, 800
For this specially
Designed pair
They can double
Up to be used in
The shower
Ergonomic
I swear
I get something
Sparkly for 300
He says they’re
Fancy
They’ll suit the purpose
I cannot linger
Any longer
Pace is picking up again
I have to brave the street
And bargain
Nail polish, lipstick
Lashed on my hand
Don’t give me that
On how many thousands
Have you tested it
I’ll take this nicely wrapped
Stick
Peach; just perfect
Give me a discount
Please
The kurti I want but I can’t show
I do…
How can I fake
I’ll walk away
Back and forth the
Prices sway
I get a little Less
Off
He perhaps gains more
But each party is happy
Since it’s a done deal
And all
Back in the throng
Of the streets
So many colours
Protesting to me
You should have
Bought this or that
Shined in turquoise
Delighted
In pink
Perused in purple
Yearned in yellow
Danced like a
Raucous rainbow
I’m alright
With what I’ve got
It was a quieter
Corner where I
Stopped
Cramming in with the
Crowd
Hugging
Belongings
Tight
Wondering
Where the metro
Entry is
How can it be out
Of sight
I’ve gone past
Oh look there’s a rat
Scurrying into
Rubbled ground
Plants popping
Out of nowhere
Don’t look down
Keep your eyes
Up
Back to the metro
Entry
I can’t entertain
This circle
Endlessly
Earrings, bindis
Hot and relentless:
Weddings
Hopes ‘n’ dreams
Survival
Sings its
Own song
No need for
Music
With
The traffic;
The tips of
Tambourines
Plus
Each hopeful
Human
Who
Bravely
Beats
the time
Along.
Lydia Poems (Facebook)
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