Wednesday, 29 June 2016


On the antique shelf over the counter

The old radio crackles

Polished with time

Its wooden knobs shine

The sound of the veena is muffled

As the daily bhajan plays in the back ground

Voices are heard

Of old men chatting

As they gather outside

The fragrance of freshly roasted coffee

Fills the morning air

Above, in the hallway, and old fan creeks

As it churns the roof to bring air to the life below

On the walls beside, frills of gold foil sways and hums

As it lies garlanded on a photograph of a turbaned old man

In a dingy corner! White and hissing!

The boiler lets out steam!

The vested master, moth-eaten and off white

 Brews and mixes cheerfully

Raising his hands effortlessly

As he fills the brass cups and tumblers

With fresh milk, coffee and foam!

Midst the aroma of these myriad experiences

As I stand here and sip into the sparkling foam

Ah! What more can I say of this perfect South Indian coffee!  

No comments:

Post a Comment