Mr. Mungo the Librarian

It was the city of masses,
where Mr. Mungo the librarian walked everyday
on the roads covered in a mixture of milk and honey
Which settled on the young, and soared them like fairy dust
Through the steely silhouettes that covered their havens
With a promise of sunlight, in a land far far away.

It was the city of magic,
Where Mr. Mungo the librarian walked everday
And saw little kittu run in his red boots.
He wasn’t running to win a race, he wasn’t allowed
But from the small dog that chased  him everyday
And Whose skin peeled off like a thin veneer, to show the wolf
Baring it’s teeth that dripped at the sight of little kittu's skinny limbs

It was a city of celebration,
Where Mr. Mungo the librarian walked everyday.
As young Roopal was graced by the company of the zamindar
She now walked the market with her mother, her eyes a coalition of fire and glass
Mr. Mungo saw her brown hair turning a radiant golden
Surpassing the height of the beanstalk in the forest
As if exulting in the creation of life, as her belly swelled.

It was a city of wonder,
Where Mr. Mungo the librarian walked everyday
A land where children grew as the years passed
But also shrunk and shrunk and shrunk
As if to open a door with a key
as thin as a strand of their light brown hair
Maybe they keep falling down the rabbit hole, Mr. Mungo mused

It was a city of development
Where Mr. Mungo the librarian walked everyday
Where important people came and promised
“ We will bring to you the reality of real modernisation “ they said
“we will give to you the rightful, the right way” they said
And Mr. Mungo could see their noses growing
Longer and longer and longer as the city ‘progressed', or was it them who did?

It was a city of peace
Where Mr. Mungo the librarian walked everyday
And as the one eyed men counted from their rising pile of treasures
Avoiding carefully, the hook from piercing the precious green paper
The ones who have remained unchanged, inert, impossible of growth
Drank the poison green wine, an offering of harmony
Mr. Mungo could hear the tick. Tick. Tick

It was a city of frivolity
Where Mr. Mungo the librarian walked day in and day out
As the tin man gave his best performance
For when the father tin asked him to cha-cha
The squelching erupted like a good, healthy puke
from the tin man’s leather soled shoes
Or tapped on grandpa tin’s request,
and squeaked when the scarecrow from the other town demanded
Only Mr. Mungo noticed the tin man’s stolen glances
At the picture of those beautiful red shoes in the poster on the wall.

It was a city of candies
Where Mr. Mungo the librarian walked,
Day after day after day
A city of chocolates and toffee
The Willy Wonka’s stone embedded chocolate bars
Made specially to wrench out the useless yellow teeth
But then, the soft butter-caramel toffee was available too
In the size of a grain of wheat, a promise
Also were available botty's every flavor jelly beans
There were flavors of sweat, and blood
Of salty water and sweet smiles, and a black coloured one labelled ‘D’
But it was only Mr. Mungo who demanded
Some that tasted of tangy hope, or spicy self
And some with silver crystals of knowledge

It was a city of humans
Where Mr. Mungo the librarian stopped everyday
And held the hand of the six year old aasha
As she tried to cross the road
Looking left, then right and again left
With a schoolbag on her shoulders,
clutching tightly A copy of ‘ life, a history'