A House Broker With Knack Poem by Rajendran Muthiah

Sitting on the step
of a corner tea-stall in the morning,
he dunked a butter biscuit
in his cup of tea and ate it.
Every new passerby
caught his rapt attention.
If anybody queried about a plot or flat,
he would order one more cup of tea
and insist the guest to take some biscuits too
and push down his hand into his pocket,
as if taking out money and also buy some cigarettes
at the expense of the visitor.
He would then take him to some worthless plots
and after stemming all his financial status,
would show plots at moderate rates,
quoting costly prices as it was in the heart of the city.
The buyer fell himself into pleasure
And the broker swelled in his treasure.
The buyer pays back his loan till he dies
and the broker says goodbye to his hut
For he had to move to his royal inn.

But time has changed
and status of the people improved now.
People are picked up in A.C. cars from their homes
to see the plots and flats and have a nice lunch
before booking commences with all fanfare.
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