Chai-wallah

At 2 in the night,

The city looks fresh to the tired eyes –

Dark as it may seem,

The streetlights bring forth magical gold

The fumes, the horn, the sea of multitude

Looks like a story forgotten old

 

One single thread links the two worlds new

The old chai-wallah –

With his cycle, kettle and one hot brew

Waits for moths like me,

Who flit through time,

And live and die as they pass through

 

Hot elaichi tea, thick, sweet

As if a reward for staying up late,

For a vigilante, when

The criminal city has gone to sleep

But who holds the dream,

As the magical night turns golden deep

 

The chai wallah smiles

I am here again, at 2 in the night

He doesn’t know

He sets the city in my fairy-tale free

Perhaps he knows that I don’t know

I come for dreams in a cup of tea…