Returning from her evening walk,
She catches a whiff of dinner being prepared.
Palak paneer! Yes, she would like that.
She takes a detour through the market.
Her shoppu vendor is there. Pink saree. Big smile.
“Amma, I haven’t seen you for long.”
They talk about the daughter
Of how she’s doing in school.
She sifts through the greens.
There is no spinach. But the methi looks fresh.
There is curd at home.
She could have methi paratha tonight.
She now makes weekly trips to the supermarket.
Where cold vegetables choke in plastic bags.
And masks hide even the smiles.