A lanky old woman
With a holy cross attached to her chain
Carried a big Aluminum pot
Full of fish on her head
She travelled by buses to faraway
Places from her shore to sell fish
She walked kilometres every day
Be it summer, winter or monsoon
She had a set of houses to give fish
Yet she would hide some for us
If she gets special fish on occasions
She would keep the fish at our home and go
Without waiting for payment
She would say, give it later
She always gave fish at a fairer price
Her relative used to work with my father
She always had an attachment to our family
She brought us fish for more than a decade
We don't get the fish like she used to bring, now
She shared tales from her life and shore
How the landscape changed with foreign money
And how the sea tides have changed their lives
She had no kids and her husband was no more
She lived with her sister's kid
She sold fish until her health deteriorated
She never liked sitting idle at home
She prayed for us in her church
Her belief is still strong
She made wishes for me
When I had a struggling phase
She used to bring a cake
and sweet red wine
During every Christmas
That's something we miss now
She is into her nineties now
Still talks to Mum once in a while
A Kerala saree is waiting to be gifted to her
She is like a relative without blood relation
Some relations are deeper than blood relations
Women like her are inspiring, who battle life
On their own, even in their old age
We still talk about her when we buy special fish
Image from DreamsTime
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