untitled 47

dwelling in the dilapidated hush
of a temple-town,
gods and tukkaram pujari
share a table at krishna cafe,
sipping the first, filter coffee at 7 a.m.;
await masala dosa scheduled for 9 a.m.;
pujari, a driver,
bows at the steering wheel before keying the engine of
maruti 400;
wife waits, on empty cylinders,
for pujari in the evening.
whiles away empty hours counting ---
waves on the green arabian sea;
footprints of shells;
sholas on horse-faced forests;
tea leaves, coffee beans on hill slopes;
trains crawling past the empty railway station;
untimely chimes of a sneezing grand-mother clock
strung from the sky.