Kinnow

Green bench 1 is occupied. Now on green bench 2 ,I have a frontal view of the park goings-on. The social reformer on the stage walls there continues to wear ghoulish eyes because the painter depended upon a text book picture for his portrait .

Yellow leaves fall to no spring breeze .A man with a skullcap and his wife have just left the park. The juxtaposition has come out unintended.

This morning we thought of the humble Kinnow fruit we had come upon after descending the snow hills. The fruit is a country cousin of the orange of the hotter central plains. Grown largely in the plains of  Western Punjab. Cute and innocent like a girl’s fresh smile. But sweet and dignified.

Kinnow was  discovery’s girl fruit
Through the mists of car window
As fresh as a college girl in giggles.

It is poor man’s orange and flesh,
A girl’s smile in  our car window,
After descent from apple country.