Sidin vs.Me

The Ballad of the Sceptical Schoolboy (By Sidin)

Why do I have no beanstalk to climb
and no ogres wife to make my own
And alas I have roamed in every park
And yet found no sword embedded in stone
I used up every day of my summer break
looking for a hole in the little town dam
Not one little scratch not even a pinhole
which I can use my little finger to jam
Last July I went with Pa to the beach
and rubbed every bottle lying on the sand
Not one genie popped out in clouds of smoke
Not even a wish (not even fair Lucille's hand...)

I even made cousin Tom catch me a frog
and I kissed it when noone was looking
I should get a princess I thought to myself
Frog stayed put, and mom gave me a royal licking
Then last Sunday noon I hopped over to Lucille's
And I peeped through her bedroom pane
There she lay on her eiderdown bed, quite, still and ashen
The scene awoke the hero within and I leapt (the memory is pain...)

Alas she was not poisoned by an evil stepmother
Nor had she eaten poisoned fruit
Yet I kissed her full on her crimson lips
And as I did, in her room her father set foot.

He whipped my ass for a good half hour
and then he called my dad
Dad took me home and told me she was with fever
And he whipped me too, and dad whips bad

So I think, Sir, that these stories are all make-believe
there are no kings and princes, or goblins or gold,
I spent so long trying to make them true
But I know better now, I am ten years old!!!

So Sir, will you please read this letter of mine
And give me a light sabre sword this year
I have been good you know, (except for the kiss)
And my mom always says I am a son most dear

So I will wake up tomorrow morning early and bright
and hope you had forgotten my flaws
I will run down the stairs two at a time,
so do leave me a sword Santa Claus.




The Reply Of An Equally Sceptical Manager (My Reply)

You say you had no ogre’s wife to make your own
Lamenting your poor fortune you have cried
(‘twas forty lines I say)
Well sir, if what you wish you had really done
Surely you would now be seeking a place to hide

For I have heard the ogres were big (and cruel too)
With fearsome fangs and eyes like burning fires
And though Hollywood might choose to disagree
I doubt they ever spoke as cutely as Mike Myers

So be thankful you have no beanstalks to climb
Let the imaginary hero do that cumbersome duty
For those who keep frequenting the fairy tale world
Often find reality contains only beasts, hardly any beauty

Then again I read you roamed countless parks
In search of a certain sword embedded in a stone
Dear me, you should be doing better things at your age (I assume you are in your teens)
Like buying valentine cards, or even better, eating a McCone

Did you say you used up every day of your summer break
Looking for a hole in your little town dam!
Holy Jesus! Don’t you have any competitive exams to give
No grammar to make sense of, no algebra to cram!

And next time you go with your pa to the beach
Don’t just rub those bottles lying on the sand
Be environment sensitive for god’s sake, and pick them up
Give our mother earth a chance, peace a hand

And if you are not up to date, dear fellow (let me make you so)
Nowadays genies don’t pop out in clouds of smoke
They only come as scantily clad nubile dames
That too in serials on Star Plus, sponsored by Coke

So be merry, eat burghers and drink colas
Then there’s a chance of your wishes fulfillment
And for heaven’s sake don’t go kissing young girls in bed
If you want a princess, buy an Axe deo with hundred cent

For it promises you magic that beats all fairy tales
Not only Snow White or Cindrella, but all desirable females
And no, it’s not make-believe for I make them all
And your trust in me is my road to a street called Wall

Remember my stories have no kings, no princes, no goblins or gold
And they are only for people young like you, not weak or old
You don’t have to spend time trying to make them true
Just spend some dough honey, and get whatever you want in lieu