Some memories of Parel
Some memories of Parel By Adeline McGill Smoke from fires in terracotta pots Adorn the piled high chunna wallahs carts Hovers, hangs, blue in the scented evening air Another searing memory of a life led over there. The short walk to the *terminus provides one with displays of mounds of pani puri, Sindhi cutlets, Madras dhosay. A man sits on the corner selling cane and peanuts, boiled. As dusk falls he lights his wares with a lamp filled with oil Then, there's the fruit and veg shop, sells garlands, too, you'll see white mogras, saffron marigolds, and the ubiquitous frangipani. Riotous sounds of life abound, in the air, upon the ground. The clatter of trams- tall, wide and ample. The ching-ching of devotees doing puja in temples. That procession! A Wedding! So glitteringly shiny! That poor little begging babe- so fragile - so tiny. A man sits on the milestone, playing his sad flute lament Before bedding down for the night - on the pavement. In his basket sits Lumboo, the
