Black magic

Black Magic
“Om Phatt Swaha!” he shouted and,
Threw a pebble in the sand.
I was watching from the window,
I could have got him red hand.

That ‘Dhongi Baba’ at Mehta’s was chanting,
And yelling aloud, and awkwardly panting
I surely would admire his attire thing
But here, the whole picture was slanting.

He kept on murmuring some senseless words
He said, he was joining different worlds,
I say, his acting was quiet appreciable,
He was staring at the smoky swirls.

And “bush!” he flew a powder in the smoke,
The smoke rose up and began to poke
I watched him and found out all his tricks,
He looked and Mr. Mehta and seriously spoke:

“Son, your house is haunted and cruel
You better present some help in here
Around 10,000 will completely do,
Don’t you worry, god bless you.
Look at this lemon; it’s a proof, beta,
The spirit here is from Yamnotri Delta.
It talked to me and told me about you,
Fake is your faith, and heart untrue.
It needs some guarantee that you are good
Give it to me. I’ll take it to the woods
Around 12,000 will completely do,
Don’t you worry, god bless you.”

Saying so he put his lemon away,
Cleared the table: gave money the way
Mrs. Mehta stood there twisting her fingers
I forced a smile, ‘a ghost mingles?’

Mr. Mehta went in and brought out a bag
Placed it on and stepped back with a drag,
The Baba pressed his grin and calmly stood
Dusted his hands and asked for food.

Mrs. Mehta then went inside,
Baba turned towards Mr. Mehta’s side
“Son”, he tapped his leaning back,
“I’m leaving now, I have to pack.
My therapies and chants always do.
Don’t you worry god bless you.”

‘Son?’ I giggled, he is younger than Mehta
And from where did he invent Yamnotri delta?
The things would get even worse from now
But I don’t have to worry. Wondering how?

Just then we all heard a huge ‘THUMP!’
Baba got an attack and sprang up a jump
Inspector Singh’s entry was just a wow!
Baba’s condition was miserable now.

I was still peeping from the window
I glanced at my cell phone and the door:
The police jeep was eagerly waiting there
To take dear Baba for his nightmare.

“Bombla”, squeaked Baba and got ‘hand cuffed’
Inspector Singh pulled out his bag all stuffed.
He called me in and thanked me with glee
All were surprised to know: the planner was ME!

(As a tribute to late Dr. Narendra Dabolkar)
-Mrunmayi Mandan.