Paanwallah Writing Prompt - Verse by Ashritha Damera

Note: This is a part of a writing prompt series. Our Prompt for January was: A Superstitious Paanwallah

Nazarbattu, green chillies, 

Hanging,
Like drops of water to a tap,
To the paanwallah's bandi.
Om namah shivaya,
He chants,
Those words,
He believes,
Would form the fence.

An obstacle to obstacles,
Betel Leaves become cones,
cones, whose voids,
In his hands,
Of bliss,
Become packets,
As he exudes,
His finesse,
Through the little gaps between his fingers,
Folded,
He exudes coconut, grated,
Flows down into the cone,
His eye starts to twitch.

Om namah shivaya,
He murmurs again.

The tutti fruti cup,
Glares at him
Showering its flavour over him

Through the glass cup,
Lifting his tutti fruti cup,
To pour sweetness,
Glass cup shatters,
Shattering his hope, 

for a good day,
Om namah shivaya,
He whispers again.

Gathering the scattered sweetness,
Pouring it, into the cone,
As he wraps his charm,
The ingredients transform,
To a delicacy,
Bliss wrapped, pinned,
With a cherry on top,
Moving his bandi forward,
"Paan, Paan"
His voice echoes,
As though, 

the streets are an auditorium,
As though 

he had an amplifier within,
His eyes,
Glance

dancing around,
Searching for people,
Who will relish his delicacy,
To feed his family,
But he encounters,
No people, but a black cat,

Om namah shivaya

He crackles again,
A phone call,
Claims
Death of his mother,
A visit to home,
Claims,
A sick son,
An empty cash-box,

Om namah shivaya,
He mumbles, 

like a brook.

His voice, drenched,
In tears, from within,
Tears clinging his eyes,
Only to fall.

How long shall the nazarbattu hang?
How long does a drop of water cling to the tap,
Falling down,
With his tears,
Falling down,
Like his faith,
Like his broken fence,

Om namah shivaya

Are we, the praying devotees,
the paanwallahs?
Trying to fill the cone of thinning hope,
Pouring in devotion,
Gathering and
Wrapping broken sweetness 

into the empty cones,
Only to find,
No occurrence to relish,
Hope vanishing.

Loud chants, 

become silences.

**


Ashrita is a first year student of chemical engineering at IIT Madras. Her hobbies include writing poems, reading, listening and singing carnatic music. She lives in Hyderabad.

PC: Chandrasekhar Singh