Waiting at the Bank...

Yellow Sports Shoes fling in through the glass doors

meet Blue Suedes walking out;

pause, barge in.

Red Floaters with white socks

tap impatiently below a metal black chair.

Flashy Gold Sandals

glimmer under grass-green churidar folds;

pace across the floor; uncertain—which is the right queue?

White, unwashed Reeboks stride purposefully under faded blue jeans

Lazy green Hawaii chappals look over Orange Pumps--how many more to the counter?

Brown slingbacks see-saw under powder pink patialas,

swinging sole to soul on a tune.

Shiny black leather shoes-- beige trousers swishing

Emerge from the manager’s cabin

Disappear into another.

Handcrafted jootis float in from the street:

a whiff of tradition--resplendent below  fuschia leggings.

Black n white polka dot slip-ons

wink beneath a pool of blue denim.

Maroon-Blue Jaipuris run round and round

Tiny anklets tinkling behind...

They want to play.

White stilettos click down a polished floor;

Cream n black designer flip-flops drag on in a daze,

 yesterday’s lived-in jeans in tow.

Blue Ballet flats scurry,

stop to fill a form in a hurry.

Cozy earth-kissed Kolhapuris

saunter out into the day.

A Jute garden with flowers pink and blue,

bloom behind the monochrome cubicle

clicking away details into someone’s account.

White n blue sneakers in a corner,

Wait to be called...

Watching queues form and melt  

Listening to the crackle of paper,

clickety-clack of the keyboard,

the hurt of someone wronged

voices across a phone line

on a busy winter morning

At the bank.