A Miser's Tale

a poem by Rajaram Ramachandran, India - poetry writer, author, poet

A renowned miser he was,
“No” he said for any cause.
To “Help,” he was averse
Thus earned others curse.

The word “Pity” didn’t find,
A place in his crooked mind,
No beggar made a sound,
At the bark of his hound.

A desert he was passing thro’
Once amidst hot wind that blew,
To a peg a camel was tied,
To drink water it tried.

The tub was beyond its reach,
It found none in its search.
He kicked the tub near its mouth,
Half the water went into the earth.

The other half the camel drank,
And shook its head as if to “thank,”
He was proud he did a job great,
That was good, despite his ill fate.

One day he breathed his last,
The Hell sent messengers fast,
Took him to the Heaven first,
And then back to the Hell just.

He saw a leg in the Heaven,
Kept well on a chair clean,
Decorated with a garland,
Found dipped in desert sand.

To the surprise of the miser,
Said the Hell messenger,
“It was the God’s decision,
Your leg is in the Heaven.”

“For the good job it had done,
A place in the Heaven it won.
Your past records go not well.
So you’ll now go to the Hell.”

Having no more credits to defend,
He went to the Hell at the end.
Yes, every little good job done,
It counts one step towards the Heaven.

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