In childhood,
To make me sleep,
My Grandma told a tale.
The sacred tale of a 'bridge-building'
To despatch Rama to Lenka.
Sugreeva the Lord of the Apes
Ordered a barrage to span
The monkey-host smoldered rocks
Tilled off the Earth upside down.
A little squirrel appeared there
To watch the barrage built.
Plunging in brine and falling on sand
It stained it's mien with dirt.
Enthused, he too amassed a bit sand
Plunging and toiling deep in the sea.
"The squirrel does the least that he could do"
Rama coddled it with his gracious palm
Anon three lines the squirrel got on it's back
The prize of toil and a boon from the God.
Anxious to detail my grandchild this tale
But what use?
Never tell foolish tales as this
to the child that dances at the hum of
'Twinkle Twinkle'...
My son and his wife too objects that...
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