One for the road

The Corolla's wheels splice through
like hammer in a maniac surgeon's hands.

He stares numbly at the orange-flavoured slush
at the Rasna sachets that are now withered metaphors.
He had been nowhere on the sedan's radar
when
its bumper seared his calves.


The passer-by's tch-tch hangs horrifically in the suddenly-still air.

He looks up at the car
only to find the chihuahua's interested eyes at the window.

At his feet
the fruity puddle has vanished.
A child's tuition, a mother's medical bill, a wife's once-yearly saree

He sighs, gets up, wrings his dhoti of the last few drops.

What angers more than the arrogance of the rich
is
the meekness of the poor.