“You are invited for a dinner at half past six”
I read untying the handmade red scroll
For in their Lakshadweep bungalow,
The Sinha’s had renovated the dining hall.
Though the clock ticked just quarter to 3
Yet I thought to start soon, however close it may be
“Probably I would drive my way
And stop to give a glance at the sea.”
On the beach was a stretch of light brown sand
When my eyes fell on a tiny lump of a similar hue
Right next to my foot, I felt a wiggle
“Be careful Mr. worm! I could have stepped on you.”
Needless to say, I was unanswered
How could a worm ever speak?
And even if it did, his voice wouldn’t reach me;
After all, for him, I was like a mountain’s peak.
“Why can’t you walk safely, away from us?
Aren’t you aware of your position in the food chain
And so look out for the hungry lobsters
If you don’t want to lose your ant-sized life in vain.”
I reached the luxurious grand bungalow
At least 10 to 15 minutes early;
The dining table was ready and so was the hall
Draped in colorful ribbons, some straight, some curly.
“Please have a seat”, proposed Mrs. Sinha
Setting the plates and the tablecloth.
The entrees started to be served
Juices, fries, jellies, manchurian and lobster broth.
All of a sudden a thought struck me
The lobster probably has the worm in his belly
The worm is what helped the lobster survive
And now would go in mine along the coke and jelly.
I enjoyed the meal and the musical evening
But that little insect on the beach – made my thoughts messy
I ended the meal and gave a break to my reasonings
Finally saying, “Thank you Mr. Worm for this delicacy.”