30 August 2023

Chappal

Made of rough fabric,
Brown, size eight.
Off the main road,
By the Banyan tree,

A chappal sits, sullen.
In misery.

Thrown out off the 
Temple yard, kicked out 
To the sidelines, don't know
By how many.

A tramp in rags,
Picks up the discarded,
Measuring her against 
His foot.

And the kids laugh
As he walks, wearing,
An unsuitable match.
That's how it is,

Recycling, is bad 
For capitalism anyway.
For the religion,
It's widow remarriage.