Chaitanya Adhikari
One day,
I went to a busy corner of the city,
To the busiest clothing store,
And asked for a set of beautiful apparel.
“Which brand?” the salesman asked.
“What are the available ones?” I asked curiously.
He replied:
“Adidas, Asics, Anvil, Armani…
Bvlgari, Burberry, Berluti, Banana Republic…
Chanel, Champion, Converse, Crocodile, Calvin Klein, Comme Ça Ism,
Dunlop, Diesel, Dior, Dickies…
(Oh my God!)
Edwin…
Fila…
Gap… (Gucci!)…
Hugo…
Joe’s…
Kenzo, Kendall, Kenwood…
Levi’s, Lee…
Louis Vuitton…
Nike, North Face…
Omega…”
(I wished to stop him, but he went on.)
“Polo, Puma, Playboy…
Timberland… Uniqlo…
Versace, Vans, Volcom, Valentino, Victoria’s Secret…
Zara…”
“Enough!” I took a long breath
And selected the most attractive one.
I tried it on and said to the salesman,
“I want to stay a day as a dummy here.”
“Sure!”
But—
I was not allowed to move,
Not to speak,
Not to go to the toilet,
Not to the restaurant,
Not even to move my eyeballs,
Not even to breathe visibly.
I stood straight, almost near the main door.
People came and went,
Customers arrived and left.
Some entered the shop, passing by me,
Some, with heavy steps, returned from the door.
Some peeked from outside,
Through the door and window—
And they too went away.
But no one came close to me.
Believe me, the whole day,
No one cared to touch my attire.
Some needed half-pants,
Bought them and left.
Some needed jogging pants.
Others bought the company’s T-shirts,
And undergarments,
And party dresses,
And wedding gowns,
Even raincoats and sportswear.
I found no definition for mine.
When I was about to lose hope,
A young man
Entered the shop in a rush and gush,
And embraced me, saying,
“I didn’t come here for the clothes.
I’ve been looking for you since dawn.
Let’s go home, Poppa—come on!”
