Shopping tonight is a running away from my Self. I lock Self in when I leave my house. And then I go searching, seeking...Is it in this brass pot so shiny? It could hold flowers for sure, and the flowers would bring fragrance. Ow, beat it! Dosa! Yes, dosa is the answer. And with every bit of dosa dipped in sambar and chutney, you slip away from my mind just a leetle bit. But you're back again as I step out and think, "What next?" There's Spencer Daily, of course. Spencers never fails to please. The security guy takes my bags. Here's the lady who will browse, who will seek herself in shelves, in packets of over shiny apples and downsized pomegranates. In bunches of grapes and over ripe bananas. She will go on with her trolley, seeking out new products, sizing their buyability. She will then go to her favorite shelves and load up. Security hands me back my soul along with my baggage. He clips my 1000 Rs. spent on another futile search for the elusive. Outside, the snide Moon hovers deliberately over me, snickering at my foibles, and I realize it's time to go home. I shake my head at the alluring chocolate cake. I'm diabetic. So what, says the baker. Here's a cake for diabetics. Really? I'm interested! I find myself peevishly bargaining with the auto man knowing full well I will hand him his pay check not caring about the pennies. But then, bargaining is his hobby and mine too. There's a joy in his saying 50 Rs, me saying 30 Rs. and both of us settling to a tepid 40 Rs. We've come to an understanding and are now friends. We discuss the weather, politics, share notes on life issues. I thank him and make my way to my house. Self welcomes me, "I've made you a cup of coffee. Now, dump all that stuff you bought some place and settle down with a good book."
Glory Sasikala: She is a poet and writer, currently residing in Chennai. She is the editor and publisher of GloMag.