The Train Vendor Poem by Anju Makhija

‘One rupees, one pin,
two rupees, two pin,
three rupees, three in.'

Little hands place
an oversized tray
on my lap.

‘One rupees, one pin,
two rupees, two pin,
three rupees, three pin.'

She smiles at me,
black teeth jagged
like stones beneath the tracks.

‘One rupees, one pin,
two rupees, two pin,
madam, five rupees five pin?'

Five rupees for Glucose biscuits,
five rupees for police hafta,
five rupees for an Amitabh Bachchan film.

‘Angrezi Madam,
want pin?
Five rupees, six pin?'

Conveyor-belt efficiency:
she moves the oversized tray
to the next lap.

‘Ek rupaya, ek pin,
do rupaya, do pin,
teen rupaya, teen pin.'

Hafta : bribe