Are they happy?
In time warp.
Six am.
Shutters down,
in this dusty town.
Water boys
hosing down
dust into mud.
One juice shop
opens up,
has he brushed his teeth?
Middle aged women herd new brides,
freshly bathed,
incense.
Temple with myriad flags,
round the bend,
on the hilltop.
Vermillion and cow's milk,
sandal paste
ablutions of the gods.
Black fumes from bus exhausts,
morning start up
with masala tea, in chipped cups.
Taxis for share
hawking their ware,
round the bend, past the police barrier.
Should I wait for the sweetmeat shops?
Breakfast is oily omelet
in untoasted bread.
Should I wait
for camera film,
and get my car washed?
Should I wait
for urchins selling coconut kernel
Through bus windows?
Should I wait for the Hindi paper
advertising sari sale
and blankets with mountain wool?
Should I wait, as I have done, for thirty years,
for the booze shop
to open at nine ‘o' clock?