In late 1980s, tried a fun poem which was published in Indian Express' Youthfully Yours Page in Pune Edition - my first ever publication. - Reproducing here today on my blog:
English Not My Mother Tongue
Met him me in the evening
Wished he me 'very good morning'
"Thank god you finded me"
And that reminded me
That he was always talking English
Eating drinking and walking English
“After the game thoughted to roam
As the electricity has not come home
We will have ice cream some some
and reach home before dark will come"
That was English's direct translation
But talking English had become his passion
Without bothering what happens to me
With his english continued he …
“Yesterday in ground while kiting
I do lot of lot of fighting
Chintoo was really narrowing me
So much anger climbed on me
With anger I became yellow and red
Chintoo gone home with swollen head”.
My brain circled as I thought
What real meaning narrowing me brought
When I asked , He loudly laughed
“Arey, tang kar raha tha" thus he barked.
Then I decided to take a crack
and give his English to him back
"See cool cool wind is walking
Come with me and keep on talking”.
He laughed loudly as told a joke
Glaring at me thus he spoke
"Wind only flies & do not walk
If English do not come to you
Please do not talk"
“Sorry " said I, “For breaking leg of English
I'm still learning A-z of English
English really do not come to me
As good as it comes to thee".
Hearing this his anger flown
Eyes sparkled and his face shone
"Working very very hardly
and lifting lots of pains
English come to me
using lots of brains".
He was wondering as Isung
“Thank God English is not my mother tongue."
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