A Late Night Cigarette Seller

Crossing the road
on my way out of a bar
I saw around the corner
a late night cigarette seller
carrying his stuff on a tray
hanging by his shoulders

Hurriedly I asked
for a mouth freshener
before getting into my ride

But just as I looked into my wallet
I realised that I didn't have any
change
So I told him not to mind
whatever I had asked for
as I didn't have any change
and I got inside the car

While the car was  swerving around
to find a way out
he quickly tore a sachet
and handed me over
indicating offhandedly
that I still keep it

He wanted me to have it
because he knew that I wanted it
but more so
because perhaps he knew
what wanting felt like

He works late at nights for
every cigarette at hand
for a margin of a rupee or two.
I presume he understands a simple desire
very well

On my way
I decided to look out for him
the next time I get to cross that street
when it occurred to me that
in the quick succession of events
I never could take a look at his face


Now all I have with me
is a nameless, faceless
fifteen year old
late night cigarette seller
one who understood
what simple yearning
could mean to people-
no matter where they came from
or how satisfied they were in their lives
or not


.