Maitreyee B Chowdhury
12/12- A Rosary Shop
Do you recollect the Beecham Garden
at the end of Hi-Street,
the shop I bought the rosaries from?
The hot pink flowers that bloom in Hutchins Road homes,
the late-night Corner House stroll by the edge of Richard’s Park,
and crimson Azaleas that smell of ice-cream.
Or remember the moon-lit scent of the Kamini
and the white trail it had sprung-
The flower seller with the Rajanigandhas,
in the Holy Ghost Church corner,
where the choir sang in Tamil.
City of my walks
you’re tattooed into my flesh-
from afternoons of roadside smells.
Of MTR dosas and puliyogare nights
and lovers in every shadow-
I walk through every street now
like blind men, who touch their skin
and with expectations still.