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The Hume Pipe

At half past two a long bell call
A boy! The most pitiable of all
“Oh! You were sent by Druvaji”
“Yes uncle it is he who sent me”.

He was joined by a flamboyant wife
An extravagant lifestyle throughout her life
“Sujeet let me say if I may
I don’t want this boy here to stay”.

“How Sujeet did get this vat!”
His dirty feet not worth on my mat
She shrank her face her lips did twist
As if attacked by a nerve disease.

Wittingly Sujeet complained of work load
“My dear wife please do take note”
Finally she listened and did agree
To let the boy stay listening to his plea.

There was a broad smile on his face
Now he would be servant all his days
Smart at work and honest in duty
The master began to be very happy.

But with this boy something worry
During day time absent quite for long
At noon few minutes daily of extra leave
It made Sujeet to ponder very deep.

It routinely did happen every noon
The reason the husband would find soon
For one day pretending not to bother
He followed him stealthily from afar.

The lanes zigzagged to and fro
Across the slums the feet did gladly go
And finally the boy slowed down to dive
Into one of the huge abandoned Hume pipe.

The election poster of smiling Sonia Ji
Does render the mossy pipe strength and decency
Garibi Hatao You poverty go! go! go!
Those maddening phrases our manifesto.

From the rag of jute emerged a hand
To helped her body to be seated as much as she can
Then she stretched the other to get the packet of her boy
To open them gently, her meal to enjoy.

A sick mother in the hume pipe!?
Oh! My! My O yes this is life
The greatest love from her son to get
So that she would not sleep without bread.

Tearfully Sujeet quick back on his way
Another long term duty ahead it lay
The duty never to be disclosed never
Henceforth, one packet for the boy, one for Mother.