A Song 98

Chaurasia
a fragrance of varnish,
walked in
for facials to
Aji, Ajoba armchairs,
double doors;
an absent face in
a pant and a shirt
stained Asian Paint colours;
Chaurasia
scraped and scraped and scraped,
varnished, varnished, varnished
with cloth balls;
a pleasant rub of five fingers
up and down,
in style,
at ease;
not a drip on the floor.
Chaurasia stammered,
Ajoba half-heard,
in winsome smiles
Aji took down
their question, answer session;
Chaurasia lives alone
in a khatiya in Rawalpada slums;
wife,
a four-year old daughter
in a Gorakhpur village;
'bahut yaad atha hai,'
he titters.
Earns Rs.800 per day
if on contract.
Two days,
Chaurasia left
home,
an unsigned,
art piece.