Saturday, November 27, 2010


As I step out
Of the shop
Three carry bags
In either hand
I cannot but
Think of you
Three years elder
Now light years away...
Our shopping done
You used to say in jest then
Looking in either direction
Loud enough
For every one to hear
"Where's the driver?
He's never here
When you want him!"
I was helpless with laughter
As we did not have a car...
As I trudge to the bus-stop
I wonder if you have one now.


Balachandran V said...

Ow! That was so - I don't know what to say - for one moment you had me chuckling and in the next, I felt sad!

Have you ever thought of publishing your collection? There are quite a lot of gems lying around here, you know!

Prabhakar said...

Thanks. A collection. Maybe.