Title:Old Guitar shop
A man sits quiet
below a thousand hanging guitars,
and mandolins and violins.
his shirt out, a ludicrous haircut.

His lips of a commoner,
face way too round
his bourgeois demeanor
eyes fixed to ground.

As I enter the shop he gently smiles
I notice a huge spider-web ,
that is lost amongst strings
It amuses me ,the man may even have wings

I ask for a lone guitar string
he picks one up:Rs 10,he says
I take out Rs 50 ,his expression strange
'Sorry my boy',he says,'I have no change'.

Curious I ask 'how many guitars you sell'?,
(the 'businessman' in me looking for a trail)
He smiles again
'come back when you have enough change'

Next day I enter again...
same shirt and smile ,I observe.
with lil business done
'how many guitars you sell?',I preserve.

cheeringly he shakes his head,
Boy ,its not about my butter and bread.
Never, how many Guitars I sell
But How many smiles I spread.

I leave as I smile.

-Rohan Thackeray