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Friday, September 14, 2018

Poetry: An Elegy on the Death of My Fake Leather Sandals


Starry-eyed, I peeked at you through the shop window
The salesman’s toothy smile was nothing to your new-polished glow.
Your fake leather belts and stiff rubber soles
Made me dream of journeys sans mud, debris, and potholes.

The salesman whispered the ‘discounted rate’ delicately into my ears,
I glanced down at my slender wallet and blinked back my tears.
My feet slid into your gentle folds, a warrior coming home,
I was fifty short but in your embrace, the world I wished to roam.

Your beauty was unsurpassed, though the insoles did itch,
And your buckles gleamed like fairy dust, when the toe-cap pulled a stitch.
You helped me traverse wet sand heaps on under-construction roads
You stood with me on the roller-coaster of rush-hour public transport.

You were with me through the muddy puddles, of early monsoon
Caked with dirt, you stayed alert, through alleys litter-strewn.
You held me in your hard embrace on broken footpaths
Helped me slink through curfew gates not even the cat could surpass.

And I should have known, you were too good for this town
My fake leather sandals with the rubber soles of brown.
As I hung off the bottom step of the spasmodic minibus
Beneath me the buckles ripped, the outsoles gave up.

And I know that over the months, we’ve had our fights
And I’ve said more than once that you were overpriced.
Though it’s true that I think you could have done with a discount
Never let them tell you, our bond wasn’t profound.

All my neighbors know of your tales of valor
What you lacked in durability, you made up for in glamor.
So what if the heels were rickety and the insoles tickled?
The road to affordable beauty with potholes is riddled!

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