After months
I took out
my Bata leather chappals
and walked it to the Cobbler
he fixed it and polished it
i dropped 20 bucks
and walked back home
singng “English man in new york”
across the shitty slum
i slipped over a half eaten banana
and tore my slipper again
again i walked limping
to the cobbler
and dropped ten bucks again
he fixed it
and i walked back home
looking at ground silently
singing nothing
and a five hundred ruppee note
found me...
and i went straight to the liquor shop
called the day my birthday
and talked to few artists...
what kinda artists i dont remember
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