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Thursday, December 02, 2010

Poessay: Rosary 17 - Hemashree

the hemashree whose hand
i held in palliative care
was not the one with golden body
and infectious laughter
though i could see the wrinkles
where smiles danced once
around her eyes and mouth

she was skeletal, taut skin
throaty almost shrill voice

everything is for sale babuji
some you buy with money
others you can barter
or purchase with promises
there is no person or object
that is without a price tag

ghungh'roo ho ya mangalsutra
sub kay sub hee bikao haiN ji*
said hemashree, unread, street-smart

* everyone has a price on their head

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