The tinkering of the milk man whose tampering
with your milk has broken all fresh water records.
The artistic chime of the cart of vegetables
that the vendor has painted in the morning.
The gas cylinders getting unloaded nearby
when you had ordered one, a fortnight ago.
The newspaper thrown at your door by the
boy who vanishes into thin air everyday.
The school bus horn, when your kid’s
lunch box is still made by the half-maid.
The laundry man who comes for your clothes
and wears them before returning it to you.
The fish monger who pedals his bicycle
with lots of fresh ice in his long dead fish.
The mango pickle vendor carrying jars
having a mix of everything except mangoes.
The mat seller who drapes himself in the rugs
that he claims are hand-picked from Kashmir.
The fire engine that arrives at your back door
to contain the fire that is raging in the front door.
The ambulance that comes with a blaring horn
just as you slip into a coma with a glaring wound…