The phone rang unusually early,
My head still tipsy, my hair too curly!
It had rained heavily last night.
I thought I could be late for work, if I liked.
I knew it couldn't be the rain, but that's exactly why the call came!
The water had filled all the drains,
And alas! it was time for me to take some stains.
Time to talk about this yearly pain,
To repeat things over and over again!
How poor the infrastructure, how callous the government.
How ill-prepared is Delhi,
How irresponsible is Sheila
The common wealth games looked like an uphill task,
Yet no one was bothered enough to ask?
And there sat my anchor inside his studio,
Expecting me to know, the last millimeter of rain.
Wanting me to get inside some drain!
What brilliant coverage it would make;
How easily would the audience shake!
The only thought that came to my mind,
There already exist a hundred channels of a different kind!
They all were deep inside the drain,
For all you know, till it rained!
Why then I must get into one,
Especially when there was nothing to be gained,
And nothing to be won!
Oh! Anchor, My Anchor!
Please do not make me roll
For what might become of me If I fell in some hole?
No army shall come to rescue me,
To be treated like the Prince,
Was not why I was born
And that's why with this thought I couldn't go on!
Therefore I plead upon you Dear Lord,
Make me into a tadpole or something of that sort,
And then throw me inside a hole,
For that would make me live my whim,
Being a tadpole, at least I could swim...
Divya Jha.
21.08.09
My head still tipsy, my hair too curly!
It had rained heavily last night.
I thought I could be late for work, if I liked.
I knew it couldn't be the rain, but that's exactly why the call came!
The water had filled all the drains,
And alas! it was time for me to take some stains.
Time to talk about this yearly pain,
To repeat things over and over again!
How poor the infrastructure, how callous the government.
How ill-prepared is Delhi,
How irresponsible is Sheila
The common wealth games looked like an uphill task,
Yet no one was bothered enough to ask?
And there sat my anchor inside his studio,
Expecting me to know, the last millimeter of rain.
Wanting me to get inside some drain!
What brilliant coverage it would make;
How easily would the audience shake!
The only thought that came to my mind,
There already exist a hundred channels of a different kind!
They all were deep inside the drain,
For all you know, till it rained!
Why then I must get into one,
Especially when there was nothing to be gained,
And nothing to be won!
Oh! Anchor, My Anchor!
Please do not make me roll
For what might become of me If I fell in some hole?
No army shall come to rescue me,
To be treated like the Prince,
Was not why I was born
And that's why with this thought I couldn't go on!
Therefore I plead upon you Dear Lord,
Make me into a tadpole or something of that sort,
And then throw me inside a hole,
For that would make me live my whim,
Being a tadpole, at least I could swim...
Divya Jha.
21.08.09
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