I’m trying to fit an entire kulfi down my throat
While joggers passing by slow down
To stare in amazement at a young girl
Choking on a stick in the middle of the sidewalk.
My nose perks up as it picks up a whiff of memories long forgotten
Following the scent of sweet corn roasting
On smouldering coals all the way to the end of the promenade
Just for the sake of upholding a monsoon tradition
Of years past.
A warm paper cup of tea cradled by trembling hands
Shivering from the cool ocean breeze
Hitting my soaked form from trying to act out
A lifelong cliche of a dream to press my lips against another’s
Standing in the pouring rain
As the sun sets behind us at Bandstand.
Interrupted by a child tugging on my arm
Trying to sell pretty baubles
Leaving my lover’s wallet a bit emptier
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