Distress Buying, Selling... Poem by Ananya Guha

She sells fruits or is it vegetables
She sells on pavements, white washed houses
her coins ringing notes of sadness
She disposes of vegetables in evenings of skies upturned
when volatile winter thunders.
She sells in a neighbouring village
her home, her point of no return
She sells in Shillong's bustling traffic
She sells she knows not what
her smile tells that she sells
and we buy, distress buying.
We eat. We haggle. We buy
and sing songs of praises.

She sells, distress selling.
We buy distress buying.
The notes emaciated, withered fingers
she continues to sell.
Pavements lined with vendors
lit lamps, when there is no light.
She sells whirling in scathing darkness