Baba , Baby and Manny

Baba and Baby

In a world ruled by insanity
In his name, he had found symmetry
He called himself ‘Baba’
Baba -- simple, sober and spiritual
One day a girl came and asked him
‘Can I run away to the forests,
Pick up wild berries,
Lead a life like the hippies?’
She called herself ‘Baby’
Baba replied
‘You are here to stay,
You bring with yourself a distinct flavor
You are here for your dimples
The scars are yours
Just breath slowly and deeply
Why run away from this?’
The second time when ‘Baby’ said
‘I can’t think of anything beyond food, sleep and sex’
Baba asked her to write poetry
She did so by breaking her prose to many parts
Every sentence became a new line
Wrote a few new lines and adjusted tense
Yet , nothing seemed to make sense
‘Can I go mad, just stark raving mad’ she shouted
Baba stood there , knowing not what to reply
Baby sighed
‘Oh , you man in crimson red
Have you been cheating me all this while?’

Manny

When every other boy in town
would have liked to be called Bob and dude
He thought ‘Manny’ was cool
Like ‘Man’ with extra Es
One could curve their lips and say it with a glee
He had the best of both worlds -- Baba’s and Baby’s
At least he assumed so
He presumed that he was suave and benign
macho and mature
sensible and sensitive
He was all this and arrogant
Looking down on Baba he said
‘In you I see no zeal or zest
Just vague answers and aimlessness’
And belittled Baby
‘With a name and thoughts so juvenile
You assumed you could write poetry erudite?’
‘Can I laugh my ass off looking at the two of you?’
Baba replied ‘Are you doubting your own ability’?
‘May I laugh my ass off?’ Manny reframed
‘You don’t need our permission for that’ Baba said

Now it was time for Baby’s repartee
‘Manny puts his head down in shame
For the question he asked was just too lame
Now Baba, give me a high five
I just made a few sentences that rhyme’
Baba smiled , Baby stood stunned , Manny cried and the story died

Now you decide for yourselves , do you want to be Baba , Baby or Manny?