I send a blonde on a whirl ... and thereby hangs a zen tale |
Spirituality and the Kindly Dog I sat like a gyani, antaryaami On the block at the beach, meditating, And, in my hands, the leash of my big Bull dog, I was tightly holding. The sun that shone on my head was hot, As hot as grilled beef salami, When there came a woman, all dapper and trim, Touching my arms, she said, "Oh Swami". I looked up with a keen eye and saw - Touching me thus was a nubile young thing. She saw my spiritual and yogic stance, And her mind just went "bing bing". Kneeling down, she touched my feet, While I sat as if in a spell, In her, I saw my chance - my release, I smiled at her and said, "Oh, swell!" "You want wisdom, and I shall give it, And, in return, I seek no cash, I just want you to hold this leash for me, And, while I think, please do nothing rash." She agreed and took up the handle, And placidly waited while I thought, How was she to know what came next: The dog growled, freedom 'twas he sought. Away she went, dragged by the dog, Who fled, with her, still the leash holding, I laughed with mirth as she lifted, Her hair flying behind, her legs, levitating. Soon, she was aloft, in air, suspended, Hand outstretched, leash tightly held, The dog, now had slowed in his tracks, He had lingered - for a bone he had smelled. I was up in a flash, she'd gotten enough, Holding her by the waist, I eased her down. She glared at me and released the grip While the dog ran all over the town. I told the woman I was no Swami, And away she went in a huff. I sat back down for the next scapegoat, To have fun and do more comic stuff. © Dr. Taher Kagalwala, May 2009 Written as "Team India" 's poem entry for Round 10 of
|