More dumping…

Bargain Hunter

A small book stall
feeding fiction and truth
for forty years and then some
has intimately known
the street rise and fall
with the lives of its people
who walked up, about and down.

The proprietor, gray haired
and observant,
is older still
and owns longer memories.
I want to tickle his brain
for a few stories,
he wants me to buy a book
and mind his business.

Somewhere between the two,
we close an unconfirmed deal,
and I listen to simple tales
the travelogue I buy
had failed to see
and not learnt to tell.

Our spaces
are so seamless
that to find
their identity
is to find
their unity
Don’t say a word

I tie her in knots
in my fiery eloquence. She
gives in with a fond hug
and wins the argument.

People go about their lives
like they had known me once,
but had known me so little
I could well have been unknown.

Maybe it is so, that I give
so little of my own self
that to know me is to wonder
on what went unfurnished.

So much the better then,
to look straight past,
and dispose those memories
that tie them to me.

I am quite enjoying Freakonomics.
The good thing is I still remember my History.
The not so good thing is I don’t remember my Math. Someone asked me today what is 1/tan. I said 1/(sin/cos) = cos/sin. And he said, so, what is 1/tan. I said, you tell me. And he told me, cot. Now, I have this urge to work on a few trignometry problems.
Why does the keyboard not have a key for teta?

So much for a six month break. Blah, blah, blah.


Posted on November 25, 2005, in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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