As the Literary branch is a Sanatorium for the sick Superintendents,
Equally, it is a junction of outcaste peons,
When I joined this branch, it was without any peon,
With much hue and cry, there flew in an old pigeon.
He was earlier, in the Army and worked with the Sergeants,
And claimed to have their company, Oh thanks to their tolerance,
Once, while driving the car, he was watching from its mirror,
The lascivious figure of a Sergeant’s wife without any kind of fear,
She asked him to stop the car and see her from crown to toe,
To avoid any accident due to the lust of the crow,
He used to sleep in the branch and awoke on the urge of tea,
For eating hot burgers which his nephew provided him free,
The present so called director was addressed as Captain by him,
He laughed with the Captain and discussed old films.
Now our friend is in Heavens, may his soul rest in peace,
After enjoying Rum with friends and eating the spicy cheese.

Then there was arrival of Rita Maglina,
An African beauty also called as Henna
She had got ancestral house opposite Taj-Mahal
Thus was linked with Royalty in spite of living in hell.
One German came in the branch and abhorred this third rate,
Then quickly left the branch as if she was a deadly plague,
She suffered from T.B. but the branch members ever loved her,
She tested the warmth of tea by shaking her fingers in cups,

A rogue namely Bolbeer of and on showed his glimpse,
Tottering upon his legs like character of horror films,
It seemed always as if he was about to fall,
But it never happened, a surprise to all.

The yahoo often dramatically touched his skull,
Which was full with sweat and was quite dull,
Mostly he was silent but sometimes suddenly spoke,
With eyes full of surprise like a deadly Ghost,
Though he was tippler yet quickly fetched the things,
Moving very speedily on his ramshackle limbs.

He claimed to have two romantic wives,
An atheist and a non-atheist, both were very nice,
The devil begot children from both of them,
And was a vigorous Cock of both the Hens.

Thus, racial unity can be seen at his house,
He is a national animal and not a dogmatic mouse,
Thou represent the pleasure in the true sense,
Rest all is bogus and a nuisance.

Well, I stop here to write any thing more,
As rest all is bullshit, rest all is bore,
Gone are the days of the scholarly branch,
Where we passed our days living in a trance.