A nearly deserted lane
A barber shop in the shanty
Of that lane
Young barber is on the edge of his shop
He reads a newspaper
We don’t know if he is reading
We also don’t know if the paper is recent
Or even upside down
Like a hawk, his eyes dart left to right
Then right to left, swiftly
And then rest back on the news paper
He is not reading the paper
He can’t be
He is merely there
On the edge of his shop
On the edge of his life
On the edge
He is waiting
Waiting for an elusive customer
To come in
And stare at the mirror casually
Move his fingers through his thick growth
And… ask for a haircut
Or a shave, at least
Barber does not budge
He is like a tiger in the wild
He has to shave someone
Shave off a few rupees from someone
He lowers the newspaper a bit
To search for someone scratching his beard
Or a hero looking boy with long hair
Soon he has to spot such a kill
Who might occupy his empty chair
And he knows it best
Waiting is not easy
He wipes the mirror
Dusts the chair
Then goes back to the hunting point
He is tense
His body is getting tight
Worst of all he is helpless
At the back of the shop
Hangs a brown, grimy gunny bag curtain
On the other side of gunny bag curtain
A female skeleton is leaning on a frail wall
Little girl is scribbling on a note book
Her school fees has to be paid
A baby is squirming in skeleton’s lap
He cries suckling the hanging breast
Utensils are empty
Stove is cold
Life is on hold
On both sides of the brown, grimy, sad,
Gunny bag curtain
Arunoday Times 
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