The List:
carrot, eggplant, arbi,
capsicum, green peas -
press one for more options -
apples, new list apps
applesauce and ketchup
not Heinz but the cheaper one,
a new pressure cooker because the whistle doesn’t work
And with each tweak it tizzles out more,
theek nahi hai, yaar  
no matter how many times you take it in,
it’s just jugaad again,
a permanent temporary fix,
so we need a new one, stainless
steel and big, bara
to cook all of your dreams.
grand total rages against your wallet,
paper thin but it’s digital,
anyway,
your eyes glaze, blaze
as the bag boy, too tired, too hassled,
too underpaid squishes the eggs
beneath the cooker
the shells quake in your eardrums
the smell of something rotten
beneath all those discounts.

the day you left
our water went, too
jugaad,
barren bore well,
too many bodies in one building,
I count excuses, listen
for spouts
faucet handles twisted
empty mouths
gape black.

even our filter-
empty
except for salt deposits
nibbling at the plastic.
it’ll take three days,
they said,
for it to be fixed.
a tanker will come.

lips dry, cracked
at the seams,
buckets half filled,
teal paint peeling
the water from the corner shop,
more bitter than Marah’s,
but
I had no power to make it sweet.

I asked your vanished shadow
for at least a little rain
and in the midst of summer,
I saw two clouds,
white pockets heavy
with rain
but they went to the mountains.

at dusk
a lone tanker
rusted red
crawled up our street
spilled
half its hold
on splintered pavement.
when it departs
a shallow spurt from the faucets
fill the flat with
gargles and whines,
a single drop
lands on my palm.