Sweating since sunrise
He had been weeding out his kitchen garden,
Happy, it was clean, and nice and fragrant
And soothing damp after the soil was dug
And disturbed from its slug,
Furrows he made, “perfect, wonderful”, a woman said
Looking out from the kitchen window wiping
Her sweat from her forehead, with a fine smile
And disappeared, she was again
Busy with the daily chores, he guessed.
Variety is pleasing, still he believes and put seeds
Of carrot, corriander, pumpkin, okra and broad beans
And chillies of many varieties, sprinkled water on them.
After he had finished his job, he sat satiated
To see his work, gave him simple joy of living,
To watch them grow, unheeded, tiny, green,
Fine flavour of a fruitful labour.
Today a variety of weeds
Has taken deep roots in his kitchen garden,
Their dropped leaves loiter around with
Wild wind, desperate, making him glum
And dumb he looks towards the empty window
Searching for a smile.
Sparrows do not repair to her room now.
They, it seems, accompanied her soul.
Their nests are empty,