Biscuit Trap Poem by Bashyam Narayanan

Biscuit trap

An old relative of mine
Even older to my grandfather
Some said he was seventy and above
Some also rated him above eighty
But, he was moving around
Walking with a stick
The one unusual thing about him was
That he was often seen
Wearing a black (here and there bleached) coat

It was one morning
Must be around eight
I happened to be in the vicinity of his residence
He was walking towards me
He, being very strict, kids feared his approach
I too was wondering as he got very close to me

Will you accompany me to the hospital?
He asked me in his broken coarse voice
As I was searching for an answer
He took out a biscuit pack from his coat pocket
Displaying it with his left hand to me
I got the answer now

I would go with him with the fond hope
He would spare me a piece of biscuit
OK grandpa I would go with you
We were walking slowly
By his left, expecting him to pick up a biscuit
And offer me

Yes, he did
Opened the pack took one
And kept the rest of the pack back
He examined it
Leaving me to wonder what to look for in an edible
He slowly broke into two pieces
And gave me one

As he was offering me the biscuit
He had nice things to say about me
He praised my performances in studies
And a number of other things
Really preventing me from
Enjoying the taste of the biscuit

By the time taste of biscuit left my palate
We were in the hospital
Not really it was a hospital, but a clinic in fact
The compounder asked us to wait
And we sat on the hot cemented platform
Which was hot being exposed to the sun

My concern was when again I would get the biscuit
But no sign of it
As our grandpa was busy talking to the compounder

I could make out our turn had come
As I saw an elderly couple coming out of the
Doctor’s chamber
We were asked to get in

At this point of time
I thought I would leave the scene
And let the elderly reach home on his own
He stood up ran his left hand into the coat pocket
Took the biscuit pack up
And for short while looking at it
As if counting how many pieces were still left
Enough for me to get tempted
And accompanied him into the chamber

Doctor was inquiring about his health
And was asking about me
And our grandpa explained him how I was related to him

It was comfortable inside
A large ceiling fan running at a gentle speed
Allowing me enjoy the breeze of a mild air changes
As the doctor was examining his patient

He wrote something on the prescription pad
And we left the chamber
My relative game me the prescription
For me to present it before the compounder
And collect the medicine

The compounder mixed a number of coloured solutions
In an ounce glass and in turn filled a pale green glass
Corked it before handing it over to me
Collecting doctor’s fee from my relative
The bottle had a label pasted over it
Mentioning name of the patient, age and dosage

Compounder warned me that this bottle
Should be brought back with the label in tact
When the patient had to come again

All these were not really my concern
As I was pondering over the chance of
A biscuit treat on our way back home
We started moving back home
Me holding the bottle in one hand
Expecting the grandpa to open up
The biscuit pack

Which he did at last
When we almost reached home
He did the same
Taking one piece out
Breaking it into two
And giving me a broken piece
Might have lost an hour or so playtime in this process
But minded it not
As it was a pleasant biscuit trap

Fell in this trap a second time
After some months
Later developed maturity to avoid this
Biscuit trap