(Sinecure: an office with little or no work but good profits)
A mosquito on hand…I smiled at her…
evaded she, my eyes, dug deep into my skin….
‘zrrrrrrrrrr’…and sipped my blood sans fear!
Again I smiled; rather I grinned!
She looked with dozy eyes at me, her prey;
aloud then laughed and tried a smart take off…
stumbled a bit and seasaw fumbled her way
to the nearby chair and managed to cough!
She crawled like a silent walking doll
nonplussed in faze and ambled precariously
towards the cabinet at the corner wall…
looked at the files and left my room lazily!
Few weeks later, during my evening stroll
along the side of a drainage channel
I found that mosquito flitting over a stinky mutton roll:
“Hey…I haven’t seen you for too long! ” I yelled!
She looked aghast at me, her faced turned red
and after a long brood said: “I’m now away from lure!
by our mosquito-king’s edict that said
Never dare into a sinecure!
and touch ye not, a Govt. servant’s blood! ”