Material Evenings | Shambhobi Ghosh

You feel the touch of strangers around you,
jostling for space to make their faces known in the muddy light.
You stare at the stacks of bread on the counter –   
Milk, brown, and some new health-freak stuff they call multi-grain –
as you try recalling the purpose of your pilgrmage.
(All the while, he is watching you.)

“Turmeric, cumin, coriander and rye…”
Parsley… sage… rosemary… and thyme…
You see his hand stop with poise, waiting,
and slowly trace the outlines of a faint forming frown,
the eyes with just a hint of distant brown,
the strong mouth, the jaw twitching ever so slightest.
Ah, impatience. Customers know what that means.
The world slowly comes to light now
with the gentle uproar to grab at things.
The cash-man grumbles as he lends a hand
to stop this welcome downpour
that fills his drawer for the day.
(No time for a one to one.)
You count your coins,
slow enough to sink them as a part of this orchestra.
And although he isn’t a man of subtleties,
he drums his fingers in anticipation
as you hand it over, careful not to touch.

The giant flat-pan sizzles with impure butter
as you watch the oil blistering the dough,  
the chunks of meat, beaten and beaten again,
the onion, the green things in between,
a dash of water, and a fizz like a rescue from hell-fire.  

You feel  your insides well up, slowly, creeping to the brim.
And suddenly the eyes, the lips, the curvy grin flash in a single slice
that never stood out before in the backdrop of  the opposite street
as your canines sink deep into the heart of your burning chicken wrap.

Indian Review | Author | Shambhobi Ghosh’s creative works have found places in a number of national and international print and e-journals for poetry, such as ‘Muse India’,’Reach Poetry’, UK and ‘Ariadne’s Thread’, UK. Currently she is the associate editor of Tinpahar (www.tinpahar.com), a website and archive for creative writing, music and art.