Ms Buffalo & Dr Crow

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Today is Sunday here, whatever Blogger-Clocker may say. And Sunday being our Sabbath when no secular work can be done (only religious and devotional work permitted) I decided to post a 15-year-old string of comic verses that may be new to some of you.

These were 'commissioned' by my son when he was in Class X and his English Ma'm asked them to write a Poem parodying Vikram Seths' Frog & the Nightingale which was in their text. In spite of strict admonition not to 'outsource' the Home Assignments to their parents, everyone did; and nothing happened except for some prizes that were given out.

Here it is:

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Ms. Buffalo and Dr. Crow

Once upon a time a Ms. Buffalo

Lay ruminating on a cheerful meadow.

The sun was slowly sinking in the west

And peace and drowsiness reigned in her breast.

Soon she heard bells, drum beats and songs

And there was a white cow with decorated horns.

Such pangs of jealousy in her heart grew

That Ms. Buffalo could no more chew.

“Oh, they adore her as the Goddess of Wealth

While taunting me as the Vehicle of Death!

Why! Her milk has no more protein

Nor my manure any less methane.

Yet laws get passed against her slaughter

As if she solely were the Nation’s daughter.”

Oh! How such thoughts did rack and rack!

Till a supple crow landed on her back.

The crow pecked and pecked at every tick

That Ms. Buffalo’s tongue could not lick;

Ticks that her long tail could not flick

And ticks that her strong legs could not kick.

“You are such a wonder, oh! Dr. Crow!

How you care for a poor buffalo!

No doubt you have had your fill

Without having to pay any bill.

You are truly the bird with the brains

Pray do something to allay my pains.”

Listening to Ms. Buffalo’s tale of woe,

“Come to my chambers”, said Dr. Crow;

“Yours is a strange case one in a million,

Whoever heard of a buffalo in depression?

What you need is prolonged counseling,

For each session I charge but a shilling.”

“You should get over such negative feelings”,

Said Dr. Crow in successive sittings,

“That the cow is so white while you are jet black,

Study my color; do I ever crack?

What you need is an uplifting motto,

Let ‘Black is Beautiful’ be etched on your photo.

Wallowing in mud’s no doubt a great hobby

But just consider what it does to your body!

No doubt your dream is to excel in cat-walk

But first thing to do is to reduce your bulk.

With four stomachs each loaded with cellulose

Why! You’ve quite a few tons to loose.

Vegetarianism is a mere food fad,

Look, for my tummy, nothing is bad.

You need also polish up your song

If you wish to be Miss World ere long.

A teacher is booked for my forthcoming son,

You two can sing duets; that would be fun!

Nothing can give greater nonchalance

Than, of course, a decent bank balance.

Collect spoons and ladles, coins and all

For a confirmed klepto nothing is too small.

But live starkly lest the CBI get a fix;

Look at my nest, it is just a cluster of sticks.

Plan your family, with a one-son norm

Unless you want to lose all shape and form.

Look, we keep but one egg in our nest

(Don’t tell my wife that I threw down the rest).

You might consider it a bit too early

But I’ve booked Agarwal, Brilliant and Master JEE.

Buffaloes and crows are alike these days

All of us enter into the same rat race.

Cheer up, Ms. Buffalo and pay up my money

For, I’ve taught you how to master your Destiny”.

The talks of Dr. Crow so gladdened her heart

With all her savings did Ms. Buffalo part.

But next time she went by the Doctor’s gate

Surprised was she to find him in a state;

“What’s wrong, Doc? Why are you down?

Your fine brow is lined with a frown”.

“My wife”, said Dr. Crow, “is mentally ill

Never had I to face up to such an evil.

How jolly was she when the chick came through!

Called in her friends; they all crew and crew.

She pampered her son till he went ‘cuckoo, cuckoo’

When suddenly into a rage her tempers flew.

She kicked up a row that her son was no crow.

In vain did I plead that I wasn’t in the know.

‘Foul play!’ she cried and kicked us out,

Consumed her pills and soon passed out.

A cuckoo may be dumb, but listen to her song!

I could have cashed on it all day long.

Haven’t you heard of the Frog and the Nightingale?

A crow’s wits any day can turn a frog pale.

But have you ever heard of a wife listen to her male?”

Ah, that is the end of Dr. Crow’s sad tale.

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