Anhad ka Baaja

Children are taught What to learn Never How to learn Cut-and-paste programmers As well as Plagiarist poets And all manner of Follow-the-leaders Graduate from our schools Why should this surprise

The chittering of squirrels The chattering of children Heralds the guava season Both confident in Their ability to skitter away Before I am anywhere near When we planted The tree by the roadside It

I look out Of our bedroom window To see The elusive Shama On the guava tree Whistling its complex melody For me Collecting lemons I nearly trip over white jewels: Habenaria plantaginea is blooming

The performing monkey At the circus Watches its trainer's face For cues As it taps out the answer 2 + 3 What's 2 + 3, Jimmy? Tap tap tap tap Tap An imperceptible nod of the head Is enough For the

A memory from my schooldays Four decades ago and more Faded, but resurrected today Not content with listening On a transistor radio Hiding it under our desks From the eagle eyes of Father Netto

A green curtain Obscures the view From our front verandah Time to take The pruning shears To the creepers