Friday, March 30, 2007

My 32nd encounter with the peacock

How come peacocks are wrinkle-free
It remains a mystery to me

We watch the peacock
Prance its dance
My wife is unimpressed
She says: does it strike you
This can be perceived to be ugly
Not beautiful

The aesthetics of wooing
Someone must write a tract about it

I was getting late
The neighbourhood bank would be shuttered at noon
The peacock offered a ride
Imagine me to be a malnutritioned horse

I declined
I did not want to be thrown off a peacock
In the city centre
On a bazaar day

History will cite me
As the first known instance of a human to fall off a peacock

The peacock and I sat on a hill-top
The wind was blowing a 100 rupee note
Sometimes this way
Sometimes the other way

It was clear
The currency had no opinion
It could not do (nor say)

I want to go north, now
Or round and round

The peacock said

We look at the Rs 100 and think it decides where it is to go
However all the time it is the wind that blows it

That's how the peacock
Gave me my first lesson on economics

How come peacocks are riddle-free
I asked

I ask no questions
Said the peacock to me
When I speak, gibberish comes out of my mouth

1 comment:

Cutting Chai said...

how do u do it??
simple and smooth...