My Neighbour

Sharp 12.00 PM

Afternoon 

She is there

Nosing around 

Poking, peeping,

Irritating ... 

Curious as ever 

"Too much of curiosity is not good"

Like water falling on stone

It has no effect on her

"What you reading?"

She asks, her eyes sharp, shrewd

Brows puckered in an ugly frown

"A book...a novel.."

"What about?"

"About a married girl being blackmailed about her past..."

She snorted...

"As usual, old story..."

"It's interesting ", I said

" Must be,"She smirked,

" Everybody is interested in other's business,"

I look at her pointedly 

She shrugs 

"Why don't they write about the futility of everything.... conquests and bloodbaths...

we are making history they say.....all rubbish "

"Yes, all rubbish! That is why it's not written about"

She puts her head down almost kissing her chest

"All rubbish! All rubbish!" She suddenly shrieks,

A cackle of laughter follows

Cacophonous....

I object but by then she is gone 

At 12.00 PM

Every afternoon 

She comes uninvited 

Sitting on the leafy branch

Of my Chameli tree

Surveys the world around knowledgeably 

Makes a few caustic comments about humans and their follies

Flies away spreading her wings wide

Perhaps

To peep in some other windows 

And collect the leftovers of

Gossips and whispers 

Of mellowed pain 

I don't hide my feelings 

She can't care less

Yet, if she is late 

I look at the clock

And check the time

Is it not 12.00 PM ?

How come she is not here

My neighbour 

Infallible Mrs Crow...

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