NEWSLETTER ARCHIVE

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12th February 2002 - Page 2

Richa Bhargava looks closely

We find ourselves in a court, that's where,
Are seated before the judge's chair,
This young man and a mosquito in defence…
Just wait a while and it'll all make sense.

It all began when the man wanted to sue,
And how to prove a mosquito guilty without a clue?
A man with malaria, someone was to blame,
So hard to tell the difference, they all looked the same.

There lay the man, shivering in his bed,
Drenched in sweat, from his toes to his head.
Outraged, the word he could not find,
To kill that little bug he had half a mind.

Somehow this man seemed so sure,
"I knew it was that one", he would implore.
So, the mosquito was brought to the stand,
Pledged to speak the truth as he raised his hand.

Suspected of guilt, the mosquito sat upon
The chair, and the questioning went on and on.
"Where were you last night?
Were you at his house after daylight?
Do you live by that dirty pond?
Breeding mosquitoes and beyond?"

No!" I screamed and stood up in protest,
"It wasn't me!" the mosquito told the rest.
"He's innocent, not the one to blame,
I'll tell you the culprit all the same.
It wasn't him, the man he didn't bite-
Because his evil twin was there that night!"

420

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