The snowy mist is milking the city today,
Even the beggars are putting a robe.
It’s the beginning of winter.
The banana-Amma is in her green shawl,
Dark, dusty, stinky,
Incongruous to her smutty skin-
The lower portion is Wobbling
and fastening to the rotten parts.
Her eyes seemed rotten more
Than her shawl,
As she observed the unsold, half rotten bananas.
Beside her, lying an ebony kid,
“She is my Natin“- she said.
Her austere eyes staring at another girl of her age,
The austerity of her eyes moved
From her mouth to stomach
As she observes the girl.
Banana amma offered four bananas to her,
All are rotten.
But she grabbed them all
As the replica of ice cream.
Now the austerity turned to banana amma ‘s eyes.
She started begging her customers.
Ankita Deka Bora is an emerging poet with English Literature as her expertise. Hailing from Jorhat, Assam, she is very close to nature and writes mostly about the same, however, not limiting herself to one theme.