(Published in MUSE INDIA / ISSN: 0975-1815)
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I saw her before
pressing her breasts
against the cold railing
near the bus stop.
The next time
she had a heavy shopping bag
reddening her wrist
flapping against her thighs.
Few days later
her toes scrubbed
the legs of her table
at a restaurant
when she tasted
her wine coloured lipstick
overlapping the smell of ash
outlined.
I saw her in my mind
quickly hanging her cloths outside
one sunny morning
wet footfalls
wrapped in a dark blue towel.
Once more
she was in a flower shop
collecting fallen petals
they swept away in small heaps.
The last time I saw her
was through the window
of a baby shoe store
clearing dust
with eyes like horizon
few sunsets before winter.
-Jharna Choudhury
