The half-burnt beedi

Sunrays breaching the window crevices,

A grimace cursing the intolerant sun.

My peep through the slanket,

The sleeves in the blanket,

Bedroom cafe and the lurching woman.


The rattle of the tea-cups,

And the battle of the sloths.

Gusty winds from the east,

And the undaunted snoring beast.


The scent of a woman.

Her hairs afloat,

the shiver in the lips,

And the cluttering teeth.

Love irresistible, and so the Darjeeling tea.

The broken bangles, the amorous moves, and

The brutal neighbour, with the mighty gargles

The lips so close, and the boisterous laugh,

The shattered love, and

The half-burnt beedi.

8 thoughts on “The half-burnt beedi

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