saturday evening, tried and hungry, I'm eating a puff at
the roadside tea stall. A young boy comes up to beg, his
younger sister in row. one or two rupees, he says. His sister
says nothing, merely stares at me wide-eyed.
i have no loose change. Before I can tell the boy so, he pats
the pocket of his ragged shorts. I have change, he says half
proudly, half smiling.
I can change you a tenner, even fifteen rupees.
i wipe my glasses
all over again