On An Outlaw
We are antonyms—of each other
(an in-law, a retired Colonel,
Who very often forgets
That he’s retired)
And I.
He’s an in-law,
But I think of him as an Outlaw!
We are of a family.
He lives upstairs
And I right below.
We have a common kitchen
And parlour, though.
He gets up very early in the morning,
And I earlier.
He always bellows his greeting:
When I am making my tea
Or composing a poem.
In the quiet hours,
He bursts in on me and greets:
“Good morning, So and so.”
Seeing me startled,
He makes fun of me:
You are cowardly.
True, but I am I!
Always barks—so loud,
So much so whenever he speaks to me—
can never chat, mind you—
I don’t seem to get him.
When I put it to him gently not to bark,
He retorts: You speak softly
And no one in this household listens.
I know I bark, but things are done, you see.
True, barking helps sometimes—not always!
Living upstairs,
He can somehow – who knows how? –
Catch me at it:
Not closing the tap,
Or not switching off the lights,
Not shutting the backdoor,
And so on!
Once I asked him naïvely:
“How do you know, Col. So and so,
That it’s invariably poor me?”
He quipped: “Who else can it be?”
True!
Once he found out
That I had moved some stuff from the kitchen.
He shouted: Why should you?
I said: Madam’s orders.
He yelled: I’m the boss in this place.
Then I asked him in all innocence:
Do you have Madam’s permission to say so?!
And there was no response!
I love gardening.
And of course I love flowers and plants,
As most of us do.
But he is for the kitchen garden.
His argument:
No plant, if not functional,
Should have a place in our garden.
He (a soldier) and I (none of the sort)
Very often fight on this issue.
And surprisingly and invariably,
I win—
Thanks to the womenfolk
For their moral support and strong sentiments
He often remarks:
You English Professors are paid
For reading novels and talking nonsense,
Whereas we soldiers fight for the country.
True, yet I remind him— gently but ineffectually:
But, Col. So and so, you are retired!
He reiterates that I should
Get up and get going,
Instead of sitting at the computer
Much of the time,
Pretending to write poetry,
In which there is no money—in any case;
Or at least should follow the example of
Amitav Ghosh or David Lodge…
Write novels and make money.
How I wish I could!
***
Copyright © Ram R. V. | Year Posted 2017
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