Kitab Khana

A South Bombay neighbourhood

dusty but grand, houses

a home for books

Modern glass doors

solemnly held open

by the guardian of texts

The smell of new prints

greets me like a friend

I haven’t called for years

Shiny bestsellers preening 

up front, on manicured piles

mature ones stretching 

out back, confidently quiet

Women reading in aisles

men behind counters

you can hear the pages turn

A boxy wooden staircase

unfolding a mystery

of a mezzanine above

A line of “washed laundry

weeping dirty tears” by 

52 ways to be happy in life

sufi songs sleeping 

on the shoulders of a yogi

Languages of neighbours

form a skyline in the wall

So many ways of living 

under one roof

If only we could be 

as friendly as ideas

living on paper 

in a home for books