Pit full of cattle urine in
The backyard when I was three.
If my uncle hadn't pulled
Me out in time, I was gone.
The buffalo that everyone
Cautioned against,
Got me when I was five.
The horn tore my jaw,
Threw me across and
Some I survived that.
When I was seven the tractor
Ran into the electric pole
While I sat in the driver's seat,
With my father.
Got lucky there too.
I survived.
Later as I grew old.
The electric sockets that
Were kind. The near brush-off
A speeding truck while I
First rode the bike.
The waves that took me
On the beach, and threw me
Back.
All those flues, fevers,
Typhoids and smallpox.
Many die on hospital bed
For medical mistakes-
But thanks to all the nurses
And doctors, who were careful
And sane while treating me.
The dent in the fabric of
The space-time that wants
To flush me out,
Keeps forever waiting and-
My ghost stays unconjured.
And maybe a kid my locality
Sleeps alone at night with
No worries and his bed stays
Dry for another morning.
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