Tuerto ( One Eyed)

There I was
gnashing down some chana saag,
slurping on a mango lassi
in a peaceful Bombay dream
replete with sweet pickled chiles
and tamarind chutney.

Along comes a mob in full melee,
there sorry saris drenched in blood.
They quite upset my equilibrium
poking each others eyes out relentlessly.

Bringing up the rear
is none other than Ghandi himself,
drunk as a miscreant monkey
got into the liquor cabinet.

I yell out, "Mahatmaji!"

He weaves over,
his whole body a wave
of debauched giggling,
ashes his cigar in my chutney,
lets out a Falstaffian belch
and slurs,

" I knew it ! I knew I knew it!"

A lengthy pause in which he shifts
on his ricketybrownwobbly legs,

then-

" I just didn't think it would be so funny!"