Doko her to the oobesetetiri
Relieve her pain? Hah!
She could divine the sex,
Sometimes even the number
Of infants due.
Oh but who shoved words in your mouth!
Last I heard ‘Twas thine domain still.
But I heard it too!
A TeeVi that shows clouds.
And from the movement and the pattern
Of the cloud,
She foresees.
Once I saw a man on a TV
jump off a cliff;
he sees us,
grunt ‘jeejus’,
Lo, behold, and cheer:
Springs up living.
Yet (when entangled in lace of her shoes)
Our Roos
plunged Tarebhir last fall
We couldn’t figure out eye from ear,
Reality, Mitra, is unforgiving.
Perhaps she never got to yell ‘Jeejus’?
Perhaps…
Perhaps not…
Anyways, the clouds..
Akin to how the Jhakris of the past
Would hurl pebbles, feathers, twigs
-Anything hurlable at arm’s reach-
And predict a future calamity.
Unlike yous,
I cleared grade five
harnessed the Inglish.
I need not fear them
Jhakri goat pebbles
There and now that it’s said.
I’ve a dozen TVs in the scrapboy’s yard
All they show are disturbed clouds.
But what junk TeeVi would connect to your belly?
Slow down on that teen-pane, antare
And it’s in a hospital…
What nonsense!
Aama Kassam,
one needs to pay admit fee to see her.
Admit fee? Hah! She must be a doctor.
But then everyone would call her a doctor saab;
Not obesetesiri.
Doctor saab is easier on the tongue.
Does she don the white coat?
That’s the thing,
I majorly hear she doesn’t.
But I also minorly hear
immediately after the two-bodied woman starts it
You know, the disgusting affair,
The coat appears
out of thin air.
You need to hone your hearing
One day you might let a chicken
Speak you into cooking yourself for dinner.
Me, who else there to pray,
I bet she is a doctor.
I could never conclude;
All that a shepherd thinks of is sheep.
Laymen like I douse not ourselves into such fires.
But men of siens do.
And I bet on siens that it’s true
She is a witch