Drusthoff, the Imp

A long time ago, in Hell, the old Devil ordered an imp to fetch him a glass of wine. The imp hurried to Hell's brewery and hurried back with a goblet full of wine. But, while handing over the glass, he tripped and fell and spilt the wine over the Devil's garb. The old Devil was mighty angry and said he," You clumsy oaf. You think this shirt of finest fabric is to be bathed in filthy swine? You must atone for your mistake. Right now, I have my hands full wreaking havoc in Heaven. So, imp, go to this place called earth. I hear the lord is creating a new creature called man. You must end this 'mankind' and only then will I let you back in hell. By the way, what's your name?"

"Drusthoff, Sire", replied the imp meekly.

"Very well, Drusthoff. I banish you from Hell. You may enter again only if you eliminate mankind from the face of the earth. If you fail to do so, I shall send you forever to Heaven. Go and report your activities in a year's time."

Drusthoff was mightily scared. He quivered from head to toe, shivered and sped away to earth, eager to fulfil his master's desire.

A year passed, and Drusthoff knocked at the gates of Hell.
The Devil saw the imp and frowned."What do you have to say?"

"Your Ugliness, things are going well. I expect mankind to disappear from earth within a year."

"O Oaf! Tell me what you have done, and I shall decide if you have done well or not!"

"Why, sire, I first went around to all the animals and asked them to attack man. Then I begged the clouds to pour rain and flash lightning till man is frightened out of his wits."

"And what does man say now?"

The imp listened carefully. Then falteringly, he said,"Sire, they are praising God! I do not believe it! Where did I go wrong, O Mightiness?"

"Fool, give man the means to fight the animals and shelter from the rain and you would have started man on his path to destruction."

The imp bowed, and as he was leaving Hell, he snicked one of the firestones that were burning brightly beside the gates of Hell.

A year passed, and Drusthoff returned to the gates of Hell.
The Devil saw him and rose expectantly.

The imp entered with downcast eyes. Said he, " Your Ugliness, I have messed it all up. All I can do is beg for your mercy."

The Devil roared, "You silly fool, you ask the devil for mercy? Before I condemn you to Heaven, narrate your exploits on earth."

"Well sir, I tried to burn down the land using the firestone I borrowed (I meant to ask your permission, your Mightiness, but somehow I forgot). But the darned thing didn't light up at all.Exasperated with the whole business, I chucked it. Then, I tried to knock down a man by hurling a log at him. But, the coarse wood struck a boulder and started rolling down the hill."

"What did you do then?,"the old Devil asked.

"I presumed it was the earth's fault that the log missed the man.So I got the man into my possesion and taught him to make holes in the ground (he calls it agriculture). I also taught him sins (though the i's are mispronounced, so he calls it science)."

"And what do you see now?"

The imp looked carefully.Then happily he said,"Sire, earth resembles Hell now. There are fires everywhere and creepers are ruling the undergrowth. But, those few who were praising God, they are still there."

"Worry not, Drusthoff. You have done splendidly well. Report again in a year's time."

A year passed and Drusthoff returned to Hell.
The Devil welcomed him and asked of him,"Well, Drusthoff. How have you fared?"

"Your Ugliness, this past year was filled with hectic activity. First I taught man to sin and sin more. Then I tamed the animals and taught them to pamper man. For science, man has started destroying the earth. Why! The other day, I found a man sitting under a tree who had the bally cheek to stop and question me. I aimed a stone at his head and knocked him out of his senses clean."

The Devil was amused and asked, "What happened to him then?"

The imp listened carefully and smiled," Why! He is considered a genius now. Goes around calling himself Newton! Man is doomed for sure."


"Indeed! Hell's population will soon grow tremendously, and I shall have new slaves. Man's fate is sealed, and you, Drusthoff, were the sealant. A remarkable job, all in all."

"Thank you, your Ugliness. But I do not deserve all the credit. Man was a willing victim. I gave him rope (which I borrowed from you of course), and he fashioned a noose and hung himself. I still have my doubts sire. Those few people who were prainsing God, they are still there...."

"Worry not, Drusthoff, you have done splendidly well. Your job's done come back to Hell. By the way, the post of manager for Hell's brewery is vacant. If you continue to provide uniform satisfaction and are tired of all this running around, I'll land you the job...."

Writing Poems

Leave tobacco alone, ban poetry,
Look at what it has done to me,
Flashes of ideas and misshapen thoughts,
Each more distracting than the last,
And when they're done with me,
I'm blabbing incoherently.
Hear! Master of my words, O Enticing Sin,
Release this poor wayward heathen,
Let me be; Please, prithee,
I've come to; Realise my folly,
'Speares and 'Sworths are not for me,
Give me back my sanity!

The Woman in the Restaurant

She was all charm and loveliness,
Not one of God's angels could rival
The rosy blush or the sweet dimples
Or the enchanting smile ever so cordial.

Captivating, yes, and sophisticated too,
A sweet word for all and well to do,
She was always the Captivator
And was ever more so with this stranger.

The man got up, a question in her eyes,
She looked uncertain,
Then, decided, she looked down,
All was put aside, even the charming curtain.

She was then what she always was,
A cunning little imp from hell,
A sneer played 'pon her lips
Distorting her face as well.

The purse was opened, a pill abstracted
And mixed with the wine's blood,
A bitter-almond smell wafted through the air,
"Death is in the air", it said.

The door then opened to let a man in
And on the face of Death was worry,
Here was a flaw, she realised that
Her plan could easily miscarry.

"Well, Dear, I hope no one
Was troubling you out here."
Said the husband, as the wife blushed,
Gone was the evil sneer.

He then lifted his glass of wine
And slowly took a sip,
His eyes were fixed on his wife's face,
They noted the quiver of the lips.

Her face was drawn in pure horror,
Too numbed to speak, too dazed,
Oh! What ill-luck! Days of meticulous
planning all in an instant failed!

The man clutched his throat
Shrieked, staggered and died,
The lady bowed her head, muted
by grief, and cried.

"Must it end so, Dear,
Could you not have known
That the poison was meant
For the evil that was sown."

She knelt down and clasped his hand,
Gone was the worry, gone was fear,
The Charmer of Hearts was gone,
The Sad Mourner was here.

The door then opened and the stranger
Made an appearance again.
"Okay, now, enough I say,
You have no big reason to complain.

The plan was almost flawless, Darling,
But, if I may say so, this is over-acting."

A shadow played 'pon her lips,
Was it shock? Was it scorn?
Was it the Devil forming a plan?
Whatever it was, in an instant, 'twas gone.

The lady smiled and stood up,
She was all charm and loveliness.

Musings of a Martyr

As a child, I always dreamt
When the day was all gone and spent,
In the farthest recesses of my mind
Was a hope I cherished to find .
And still I do dream,
Yet, I'm not able to glean,
Have I realised my aim
Or is this an all-lost game?
Now, I stand, beyond all hope ;
Hunted and hurt, a tired antelope
Lowered its weary head
and on the waters of the lake it fed.
An instant later it was no more,
I pitied it till my heart was sore,
Then, I envied it, it's misery ended,
It's life, forever in Paradise, to be tended.
My own life and future was bleak,
In the horizon, I saw a streak,
Of light, Of hope, Of all that was good,
But, in an instant, nothing there stood.
Now I stand in No-Man's-Land,
Wherever I go, not a helping hand,
Not a soothing word to heal my soul,
I realise, with War comes things foul.
I envied those already dead
And others prostate on their deathbed,
Sighing and waiting for the last trip ;
I felt a trickle of warm blood drip,
The birds, disturbed,into the skies flew,
My innermost thoughts came true.
The hunter, to carve the antelope came barging,
War-siren aloud, the enemy came charging,
The first crack of the musket I heard,
I fell like a shot mid-flight bird,
Envy, wrath, sorrow, pain, pity, peace,
I saw the ground, white as fleece,
My life ebbed away like the tide,
I had only my pride ;
My hands writhing, my sight flickering,
I knew I had realised my dream.

Why is Life given to us?

An old fool went to a scholar
And posed a question thus,
"O Revered Scholar, tell me,
Why is life given to us?"

The scholar looked up from his work,
Saw the fool and frowned,
"Old man, after years of thought,
your answer, indeed, I've found.

"Do you see the tree yonder?
Why do those flowers grow?
Old man, we must always question,
Hence, Man must live to know."

"Forgive me, O wise one, I know not,
I'm a fool, slow on the uptake,
According to you, all fools are dead,
But that's wrong, there's a mistake."

"I have not time to argue
With a fool like you.
My work beckons, so go away,
I say, be off with you."

The old man then went to a sentinel
And posed his question thus,
"O Respected Sir, tell me,
Why is life given to us?"

The officer turned around,
Saw the fool and frowned,
"Old man, you provoke thought,
Indeed, the question is profound.

"Man is given life to live
By the laws and customs of the land,
One will lead, others follow,
That's what makes life grand."

"Forgive me, O righteous one,
I grasped not what you said,
A robber broke into my house,
And you say, he's dead."

"Hah! If you want to complain,
Go to the police-yard.
Stop pestering me fool,
Can't you see, I'm on guard."

The old man ran and met a farmer
And posed the question thus,
"O Son of the Soil, say,
Why is life given to us?"

The farmer worked and did not hear,
Then he shrugged and said,
"I work with these two hands,
Not with my silly head.

"I think life is given
To live on Earth's providence,
And when we die, we join the earth,
It seems to make sense."

"But what of the Merchant, he toiled not,
And now he lies in a coffin.
Did he not live?Was he not human,
And are not all men your kin?"

"Oh!Time is lost, the cornfield calls,
And I must plough an acre and half.
Good man, give me a hand, or,
Rogue, cease your prattle, be off."

The old man went and met
The young merchant in his palace.
"O Rich Man, I ask you,
Why is life given to us?"

"Old man, the nitwits might say
That we must live fearing God,
But they don't know what they're saying,
Those stupid empty-headed clods.

"I've never been to church, nor have
I ever performed a ritual,
I gamble, and regarding women,
My interests are purely sensual.

"Yet look at me now, living
In glory and in prime health.
My father died and see,
I'm swimming in his wealth.

"Old man, life is given to live
Lavishly, with much expenditure,
And if, by mistake, we die,
So it will be There, as it is Here."

The old man did not understand a word,
But nodded his head and smiled.
On the road, he slipped and fell
And cracked his skull and died.

The scholar came by that road,
Where the old man's corpse lay.
"There is evil here, I must flee"
So, the scholar sped away.

The sentinel came soon after
And found the fool prostate.
Immediately, he returned to town
To inform the magistrate.

The farmer came and saw the man
And his face was at once grave.
He crossed himself, and set about
Digging the old man's grave.

The merchant came just then,
"Hey you! Leave that body alone"
Said he, "Go away, O Farmer,
The Dead shall tend for their own."

He waited till the farmer was gone
Then turned around and knelt
And robbed the corpse 'pon the road,
And chuckling happily went.

Alas! The old fool should've known
That there's no security in death,
That each man's life is his own,
And man's words are mere breaths,

And that each must live to the fullest,
And must, most importantly, love.
Leave the why's and how's of life
To the Almighty up above.

Star

Wind dies down, light grows weak,
Waves lash against the beach,
And, in the velvety carpet, a point
Appears beyond my reach.

Days pass by, the world shivers
But you, with your cheery light,
Stand by for all who desire
A guide in the night.

The naive crown you king
Of all the nocturnal landscape,
Your mesmerising twinkle provides
The unassuming poet an escape.

Yet, are you what you seem to be?
Have you ever grieved
For the sorrow and sickness of Man
Or the way our hearts bleed?

Your sight is praised, but it is
A light that never ever warms.
No comfort, no solace, no feeling,
Your light has only a queenly charm.

Should I too bow and crown you king?
Or defiant, contest this popular belief
That a prick of light that twinkles in the night
Can bring people some relief?

P'haps, it is true, without you,
The world would miss the glory
Of being a planet blessed with the sight
Of a majestic star's glory.

The Sinner and The Samaritan

An old hag ventured into our temple,

"There is no God",said he,

Our priest, a noble brahmin,

Opposed the idea a fortiori.

Vehement argument, heated debate,

Words of counsel of no avail,

Our priest said ,"This old mind

Will not let common sense prevail."

On the verge of defeat, the venereable monk

Could bear not the visitor's mirth,

He led him to the courtyard

Where a pregnant cow was giving birth.

"Witness Nature and her marvels

And tell me if you still grieve".

The old hag's heart fluttered and said

"Ah! 'Tis true, I do believe."

With a smile on his face, the virtuous

Parted with belief and as friends,

While, our saint here thanked God

For letting the hag see sense.

Then, there was a Samaritan

Who proclaimed,"I've seen God"

And, our priest just sighed

And mocked accord.

He led the man to an old shed

Where lepers existed,

He let the man observe

Their plight undisturbed.

The heart that feigned

The sight of God couldn't see love,

Instead it saw the hate and misery

Of the Spirit above.

"There is no soul so cold

To let It's baby die,

No Heart so hard to let

It's creation cry.

"My belief is not true,

'Tis not quite right,

There is no God," said

The inept hypocrite.

I was puzzled by the

Priest's act, and said as much,

The saint smiled, looked away

And ignored me as such.

"Dissent is never a match

For faithful surrender," said he

"Yet there is nothing as shallow

As jeunesse doree.

"So, I urged the chaste skeptic

To surrender with faith to He,

While I forbade the impure cheat

To desecrate the Lord," said he.

We are all instruments of God,

He works His wonders through us.

Let us not neutralise the effort,

Let us enjoy life , be joyous.

Ravings of a Maniac

I write not for fame nor recognition, for the time is too past.

I write out of my own realisation, that life is not a farce.

Born a human,named an Indian,branded a brahmin,

At a tender age,I was forced to obey the rules of my kin.

In the name of education, they taught me to discriminate

Between the rich neighbour's and poor beggar's fate.

As I grew, I thought money was what was essential,

And later, the lust for power became my ideal.

Law school saw me learn how to bend the statute

So that my client should emerge victor in the dispute.

Today, as I realise that my breath is limited

I write to show that a sinner has repented.

"Life is given to man not to enjoy alone

Or that when death should knock, he should die alone

But to satisfy the soul likened to God

So that when the time may come for it to depart

It may go with a smile a cheer, without pain or blemish,

That, my dear friends, is why life is given to us - To cherish!"

Dreams

The orange sky seemed to signal
The last wisps of a cloud
The sun had set, The stage was set
For Night to cast her shroud.

Many an eye closed to rest
For the coming day's toil
While the occasional nocturnal being
Maintained his vigil.

The lids may close, the heart
May beat at a slow regularity,
But the brain, Ah! that diligent
Worker won't stop his activity.

So it is, that man travels
To the magical land called Dreams,
Pleasant thoughts to make him smile,
Or a nightmare to make him scream.

A utopian world, to the logical,
Illogical it may seem,
But our wish is supreme, thought paramount
In that mystic realm.

When the sun rises to the cock's cry
Our dreams into thin air fade,
But the day was not for dreamers
But for the practical made.

The Wind

My heart's a-bloom,
It shoots up through the stony ground
And soars into skies of hope eternal
And marvels at the joy all around.

Struck by wanderlust,
I am the Wind who, wondrous as ever,
Soothes the wounds of Man and Nature
And aimlessly wander forever.

Wandering thus have I seen
The secrets and marvels of the world,
I have sought,I know not what,and,
In a sea of slime found pearls.

Joyous I am in the darkest of nights
When deathly monsters are at bay,
For, I know that the sun will rise
There shall be a flood of light 'nother day.

Afar, I see the falcon cry
And swoop down 'pon it's prey,
Quickly, the victim is slain, its corpse
Dead and dismembered lay.

I must stop and mourn its death
Shed a sad tear p'haps
But I smile and pass it by,
My joy - it suffers not a lapse.

For there's always death in life,
But then,there's also life in death.

Afore I have gone a few steps,
I smell a delicious smell,
Ah! Ecstasy! I have smelt this before,
My heart with joy swells.

I rush to catch the first drops,
My heart throbbing imperiously,
I care not for the obstacles in my path,
I blow hard and thunderously.

But then by a cruel twist of fate
I feel myself weaken,
My joy is gone, fear and regret
Rule my heart broken.

Alas! It must fall unwelcomed
Onto a parched and cracked rift,
Oh! What would I not have done
To feel Heaven's gift.

Yet there's hope in me

(another time p'haps)

My smile masks my inner pain,
I die a silent death,
And quietly falls the rain.