An outing with girlfriends

An outing with friends

On a cold wintry night

sipping the Starbucks latte

we drove around the city,

discussing the leitmotifs

in a Director’s cut

we had watched that evening

on reclining seats with ottomans

and warm blankets to cover our feet.

In Jimmy Choo heels

clutching Louis Vuitton bags,

we planned for fancier cars

and holidays in Provencal France.

Bitched about indolent maids

and the meddlesome in-laws.

Ranted about the wearisome life in general

And the overbearing bosses in particular.

Made fuss over the Sabyasachi ensembles,

For the friend’s destination wedding next year.

We cursed the government that

wasted tax payers’ money copiously

and the uncouth people at large

for spitting and pissing all over the city.

The harangue went on and on about

the myriad discomforts of our lives

till the time we saw her,

the one with the vacant eyes.

She stood on the side walk,

her clothes tattered and torn

her hair a lifeless brown and shorn

her youthful body contrasting

with the ancient stoic face.

Silent now in the snail-paced traffic,

we soberly passed by her

and saw her survey the footpath

to rest her weary bones

under the cold street light.

-Neha Bansal