At midnight in the bakery at the corner <br />While bread and butter-biscuits are being baked <br />I remember the Rahman of my childhood <br />And Asmat's sparkling eyes <br />Playing carom with me <br /> <br />At midnight in the bakery at the corner <br />While bread and butter-biscuits are being baked <br />I am boozing alone in my room <br />In front of me fried liver pieces gone cold in a plate <br />All my friends migrated to the Gulf <br /> <br />At midnight in the bakery at the corner <br />While bread and butter-biscuits are being baked <br />The wife of the Pathan next door enters my room <br />Closes the door and turns her back to me <br />I tell her, sister, go find someone else <br /> <br />When the bread develops its sponge, the smell <br />Of the entire building fills my nostrils.<br /><br />Dilip Chitre<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/at-midnight-in-the-bakery-at-the-corner/
