Friday, January 02, 2009

Martyrs of the third kind

A pale black cap, uniform and an apron she wore
With hair rolled up into a bun, and a smile adorning her face.
Wiping off the fatigue that clung onto her brows,
She moved around like a streak of lightening all over the place.

It seemed she carried the entire coffee shop
Over her petite yet responsible shoulders.
Making a wish list of people sitting around.
She made sure she personally attended every customer.

The ears of those cups had turned sore.
Time and again, listening to the same tittle-tattle.
Whereas, the spoons stirred with pride and lay over the saucer,
Watching people who were a lot shallow, rattle.

Love, hate, care, pride, modesty,
Lust, friendship, courtship, break up, contemplation,
Compromise, envy, conflict, secrets, infidelity
And much more was passed across tables over hot conversations.

She seemed like she had seen and heard it all,
Over time, there was nothing that could surprise her.
At times, with hands folded and looking blank,
She would stand calm and placid in a corner.

As still as a mannequin she would look all poised.
Only her thoughts would traipse from one wall to another,
Wandering into every nook and corner, following her eyes.
Maybe, there's a dark side to this moon, an unseen shade to this insipid character.

Would she have ever thought of making a fair trade,
Slipping into the shoes of those on the other side.
Whenever she saw someone of her age just whiling away.
Or sipping coffee without much to do but indulge in killing time.

Perhaps, it was the choice she made,
On her pursuit for happiness which she sought;
To serve a cup of cheer to those who dropped by her place.
Or was she inevitably destined to play this part?

Well, it's amazing how some souls out there,
Sacrifice so much and pay a hefty price.
Wishing that, someday, they'd reap their toil's harvest.
They take the thorns while picking roses for our ming vase.


Muse said...

Nice to see a poem spread across a table. Reminds me of my own :-)

smriti said...

hmm...nice i didn't like d expression in d 4th cuts d flow....

Anonymous said...

Wow. Very moving at the end.

It evokes a bit of sympathy. But you also mentioned about choice. Then, I don't know what to feel - sympathy for the choice or empathy for what one goes through in every choice or even apathy for self. I liked your physical description of the character - without a name, of course - but a huge sense of identity. Good writing. :)

Amber Light said...

I was wondering the same thing a few days back. My thoughts however focussed on how people treat these martyrs of the third kind - like lesser mortals
Lovely capture of thoughts - she must be a real person?

vandana said...

"AS still as a mannequin she would look all poised,
only her thoughts would traipse from one wall to another,
wandering into every nook and corner, following her eyes...
maybe there's a dark side to his moon,
an unseen shade to this insipid character...."

loved the expression, the flow, the rhythm in these line...perfectly expressed...every wrd is well placed.

n really liked the theme .... its sumthing that is so common yet so neglected. A very well treated theme...njoyed the read..thanks! :)

Meghna said... so sorry 2 b visiting aftr so long....hope u havnt forgotten me thgh :D

Am bck in full form now....dontcha worry :)

nice read...straight frm the brain...pen, I mean:D

Do check my blog soon too!!!

nemo said... always...

Priyanka Khot said...

I have got an award for you please come to my Delhi blog and collect it. :-)

Winnie the poohi said...

A bit retrospecting.. a bit sad.. and yet amazingly heart rending!

Priyanka Agrawalla said...

visiting first time.. nice one.. A different topic, it was!

chytra said...