Poetry 2015, FeaturedWriter Akila Gopalakrishnan

The Ladies Compartment

We are a motley crowd
with handbags, laptops and lunch bags

sporting IDs of rings and toe rings,
buffering dark circles

for un-waxed conversations of etcetera
in food, fabric, finance, family.

We manicure safety and freedom
in lip-glossed songs, henna cones
and swipes of social network pages on the phone.

Nasal calls of peanut and samosa vendors
are flipped by in bookmarked pages
hoping that one day
a rainbow would find the puffed eyes
gazing vacant on the window

Our laughter
indulges in anonymous company
of dry sweat, an aura of our anatomy.

We waltz

with our Body Mass Index, pH of pimples,
dimples, wrinkles and the uneven tones of our skin
on pedicured sandals, cracked slippers,
stiff joints and a numb lower back.
.
The overhead bar syncs our pursuits

We are one in many;
 many in one.

Soon we would slumber to cricket songs
leaving the lady in the welcome poster near the door
to rattle alone with empty shadows.

Tomorrow will be a new dawn,
sun- screened with another ticket
to this daily soap in the ladies compartment.