The Garden

September 23, 2008 at 3:42 am (Dominic Alapat, Poetry)


There were people in the evening,

groups chatting, playing cards,

and women and children; and maids

running after toddlers. The balloon-seller

made an otherworldly sound rubbing his

fingers on a balloon; and the sky seen

through the balloons…; there was dew

on the grass and the kulfiwallah passed

by with his basket on his head, a maroon

cloth tied over the rim; and the kulfis

smoking on the leaf handed out;

in the distance lanterns burned,

kerosene lamps of the bhelpuriwallah,

the sharbatwallah, the paubhajiwallah,

the radga-patticewallah, the Chinese cart

opposite the road with flames leaping out

of the wok, the night with its stars smiling,

spraying this boy with light, with its glow of eternity;

this boy who will now get up from the grass

and walk home.


– Dominic Alapat


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