I stumble over a jagged beige slipper
Sunken in a shallow pool of muck – tiny kaleidoscopes
Of reflections of the lights gleaming above them.
Red lights, yellow, white and some blue.
It’s a colorful and fervor laden night in October –
In a narrow middle class bazaar lined with hawkers offering
Meagerly ‘huge discounts’, on little joys for the festive season.
It is the kind of ruckus that would assume Shiva to be a cheesy
pelf-thirsty entertainer or a cheap imitation out for a smoke.
Just floating, feeling the commotion bruise me by,
I drown in this resonance of bargains, this matrix of saffrons and turquoises,
Of orchids and chrysanthemums, terracotta and melamine:
Temptations disguised as necessities dancing to drones of Bhangra meets R&B.
A dozen for fifty, two for seventy-five shriek the nasal chords
Of the guy who sells bangles – the only voice to make the
Blaring Bollywood bawls from the pirated music store seem like whispers.
Hummingbirds fight the tug o’war, and wrangle faster than their wings can beat.
The prize lurching to and fro as numbers fall and tempers fly.
The hawker looks to his left and then to his right…And whispers to the woman,
150 – Take it or leave it! Followed by moments of trumpets and hesitant silence
Moments as transient as the sandals she just bought – Genuine Italian leather.
My nose sedated by a zillion colognes suddenly makes me realize
Why celibacy might be a good idea. Skulls and zodiac signs blazed across my sight.
Do you have one with the two fishes?
Demands a woman flipping through the key chains.
She settles on a tacky mood ring – It’s just purrrrfect for Mr. Xiao!
I wish I hadn’t used that last moment
To watch her gild her feline friend.
