You re-house Machiavelli’s soul in your foul frame
That soul great guides your head and heart;
Not what you learnt from the kitabs
Beacon to you is Lucifer’s own light.
With verisimilitude unseen,
With finesse unthought of,
You pose as a Judhishtir.
But Dharmaputra, I know you
Engineer mischief meanest.
You are the mid-husband of
Old rustic plot,
Vile stinking villain
You know not- unhiegynically you rot.