Walking down the gravelly road after
a mind-numbing day’s work, she hopes
to be left alone with her thoughts, plans
for a much awaited weekend, or maybe
she is married, and that impish smile that
just passed, is a memory of her child
waiting her at home.
It is a dark night, lightless,
just the same as all the other nights
she walks this lonely path.
Everday, I have seen her,and everyday,
I let her pass. Today, swamiye ayyappa,
is her turn, poor little oblivious thing. I bound
unbeknown, silent like a thief, and hold
the knife to her throat. “The chain”,
I say, in my most menacing whisper, and before
she can cry, pull at it, and thump
her on the head. She falls with a muffled cry,
and I run, before I can be found.