The round-faced boy in the tattered shorts is ten at the most, but he wields his little stick-broom in an offhandedly grand manner. Squatting on the dusty kerb at the edge of the dusty road, he squints at the passing traffic. To either side of him there is a patch of pavement clear of dust, extending a little farther than the length of his arms. A stray dog making to venture into this tiny dust-free realm is sternly shooed away with the little emperor's broom sceptre.
The boy's sandals are of the cheapest kind, but their straps are coloured golden.
hazy morning a truck squeezes past the camel cart
Johannes
2010-02-27
Copyright Johannes Manjrekar, 2010
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