Maya the Illusion
It lay curved,
Not curled or coiled;
No slithering,
Not even swing;
‘Snake’, said my wife.
‘Rope’, I did Modify.
‘I have, anyway, believed.’
‘Ha!’ I retaliated;
Shankaracharya’s philosophy slipped in like a soap,
Mistaking rope for snake and snake for rope…
Yet that lay
As though nothing to say…
She took a stick,
I hurried with naked hands to pick;
And, Lo! It stood,
Opening its hood;
‘Jesus!’
Hisses!
She stood cane in her hand,
Helping me hide behind;
Till it crawled fast for life,
And I cried a sigh of relief…
Our little daughter laughed and said:
‘Your Philosophy has fallen dead.'
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