Koli Women
Today I sat next to the woman
in the public transport which carries you places,
whiff of holy shrimp was upon her -
she was not hiding a basket under, never changed my seat,
knew her to be a fisherwoman;
the fisher-folks in this part are fair, very fair
and present look of royalty,
she wore a parkhi, the kind of shoulder scarf
the Koli women wear, her wrinkles had a pattern,
she used them for tweaking the glasses
which were too bulky for that muzzle,
I figured she can’t read or write
or count beyond hundred,
but can shell a prawn down to the last thread.
Saranyan BV is a
Mumbai based poet and also writes short stories. He loves Raymond Carver and
Emily Dickenson. His latest story are 'if wishes were monsters' and 'Hyenas
do not suffer from folly of belief'.
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