It was one young girl with goods
Purchased in one of the grocery shops
Walking ahead of us in ill-lit Bomdila.
The two of us walking behind,
Three boys were coming towards her,
And in a moment one boy must have
Said, or done something to her that she
Spoke out screeching, typically girlish,
And the boy laughed and passed by.
It recalled to me a street-scene
On Indian bazaar I saw in Jakarta
In 1982 when a short plump girl
In frock, going up, was met by a boy,
Who actually hit and pushed her,
And yet she laughed affectionately,
And kept turning her head to bend
Fond looks on him, his back.
It is fascinating to watch youngsters,
And the palpable chemistry between
Some, and the nonsense that goes on,
Mostly with one bearing the burden
And the other simply having fun.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
nice write.......... love the ending