Jaspal Calls Poem by Meena Somasundaram

Jaspal never keeps time

he milk listens to chimes

not of the hourly clock

but of the human flock.



His mobile phone has a song

Hindi one as the tune nothing wrong

comes with my milk from afar

a place called Bidor not in his car.



He motors through in his bike

a milk can tied in a strike

glides through my lane so late

makes me wait near the gate.



It so happens and happened many a time

if not wrong in scores of times

I would walk in tired of waiting throughout

a bonanza for the monkeys out and out.



The day before I opened my door

lo! saw the big old monkey on the floor

had my milk tied in a packet in hand

had removed partially the rubber band.



It was sipping the milk through the opening small

I tried to drive him off with a cane not small

it made faces and sat there unperturbed in ease

after a time it walked away throwing the milk in a tease.



That be the fate of my milk on the day before

all my tricks fail in frightening him to the core

my containers serve no purpose in all

every day I have to be on alert when Jaspal calls.