By Reena Prasad:
Reminiscences stuffed into frayed pockets, she walked
in no particular direction, going as far as house waste goes
In search of a treasure trove of stinking landfills
Tattered as her life of forty, are her gathered clothes
Fading grey underskirt with trailing,weeping ends
ignorant of the boundaries that defined the sari-remains above.
She poked around the stagnant mound, not particular about any find
Bits of plastic, broken bottles, an abandoned diary of teenage throes
All lay in companionable silence in her brown sack of unwanted orphans
She picked in silence, watched by a scraggly, one-eyed, stubbed tail cat
Twin wandering souls, united in casual neglect, relegated to the night-soil trenches.
Previous birth karma, wrinkled noses, anti-beggar sentiments and disgust compete for supremacy.