And we build their homes

I pitched a tent

on a vacant plot

and waited

and waited

no one appeared

not a single soul

days went by

months went by

I flourished in the tent

I thought it mine

I swept it clean

I pasted broken pieces of marble tiles

at the entrance to make it like home

It was good, we felt at home

All five of us

Me, my wife and our children

My little girl brought more marble pieces of yellow

The boys brought red, green and a shade of mauve

They stuck it well, laughing as they did it

While she and I worked at carrying bricks

Up and then mortar and then much more.

We slept happy with pieces of  marbles tiles at our entrance

Which was also our whole home

Then my girl brought home a small hibiscus plant

And my wife helped her grow with her children

“We are now six”, she said happily

When a little cat wandered in

My wife cried “oh, great we are now seven”

And she said how seven was a great number

Her father was seven when he got his first job

Cleaning toilets at the masters home

“And it was good enough for all of us

We had enough to eat and drink”

It was by then, all done,the home

Their home, outside which we had ours

Now they will move in

And we have to move out

To where they build new homes

So that we can pitch our tent outside

So that she and I can carry bricks, mortar and much more

She said, half jokingly,

“I like my home just near my work place

besides which construction labour ever got a nanny?”

Our children will now make it better

The piece of land where I will pitch my tent,our home

Till the work is done and then we move on

I know sometimes climbing up and down

I might just not return

Well, I know her well,my wife

She will pitch the tent, make a home and feed my children

Perhaps a new man will join her, perhaps not.


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