“Greens! Who said?”
I was looking at that wedged path
Across the street
Lined with roses, red and yellow;
Cacti fenced modestly –
Speckled pebbles, black and white.
Rinsing the veggies, she answered,
“You’re right about colours.”
Appetising and healthy –
Bell peppers, red and yellow;
Salad leaves arranged modestly –
Speckled mushrooms, black and white.
Copyright © 2017, Deeya Nayar-Nambiar
She and I didn’t share the same nature of job.
I’ve known her but for some time now.
She and I never spoke anything
Except exchanged “Thank you”
For the cup of tea she served me at work.
Today, unlike other days
She and I got into the lift together and were alone.
I smiled and fiddled with my phone
And she searched in her bag for chocolates
“You know, I work for myself and my past is not painful.”
“Happy Women’s Day, madam.”
Copyright © 2017, Deeya Nayar-Nambiar
Hiding behind the scene,
She hoped to remain unseen;
“Private I am and share not my mind.”
Her performance a dream;
Applause heard among scream;
“Private I am and save me my name.”
Who she is, mattered everywhere.
Who she truly is, mattered to none;
“My privacy is precious and I trade not.”
And thoughts conflicted
Between real and realm
In her sacred private space.
Copyright © 2017, Deeya Nayar-Nambiar
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