Leopold's Cafe  

Sidewalk of hawkers, touts, pimps.
Gulf Arabs in white with wives shrouded in black
peering through veils with hawlike gold trim.
Beautiful women in silk sarees,
Cripples, blind beggars, all pass in front of
Leopold's Cafe where out front
leather chappals are sold.
          A young woman passes with garlands
White Mogra blossoms, Arabian jasmine
Woven into strands
Ebon tresses to adorn.
Her head tilts, her eyes speak,
"Do you want?"
My head denies the flowers,
My eyes admire
The bold smile, white in the black face.
Another smile and she ducks behind a
pillar, the guard and his cane to evade,
Peeks back and tosses a garland
On my table.
I drink my Kingfisher beer, and yes,
she returns.
Across the threshhold, forbidden to her,
in her own country,
I pass ten Rupees, forty cents.
She smiles her thanks and disappears from
my life.
"For these you paid ten Rupees?"
sneers the waiter.
"No, for the smile."
He nods understanding,
"Ah yes, they both please the heart."

© 2006 Anton Capri