A Penalty

In a haste,
I open my store
take the provisions,
slam the door
lock it in a hurry,
run to the kitchen.

The milk is rising
near to boil over
I race to switch
off the stove, sit
cross legged with “aruvalmanai”
the Indian cutting equipment,

Start to cut the vegetables.
onions, spinach and garlic.
My eyes turn watery
fingers start to burn,
while I get ready for
preparing lunch.

I forget to take rice
go back to the store.
The door does not open,
seems grim, I manipulate t
he lock poses adamant,
I call the carpenter.

The mulish door stays firm.
He bangs the lock,
drives the spanner
through the hole,
no way, the lock poses tough.
He deliberates for a time.

Returns to work
with a hammer.
Finally releases the lock
by breaking the head.
The lock becomes useless.
He fixes a new lock.

What a tedium
and expenditure
I sigh!. Well, a full
one thousand and sixty
rupees gone, being
the payment for
my folly.