if the name all forgot
Died the same day that Gandhi Ji died..
As all were stunned why Bapu was shot
The goat left loose where grass it plied.
But it better saw a chance to eat wheat flour
left in the 'Parat' by Mali's wife
Her small cottage open, across the door
The 'Chuble' left unlit, the hour of strife.
What the dear goat knew, the wheat flour chew
Swells up in tummy if left over night
Her goat wisdom chewed it any through
Her body after that kept on getting tight.
Soon the pictures changed, crowds after crowds
Passed her body by, curfew of the time
Their glances at the goat flies at the snout
Last rites songs, souls touched by crime.
Her eyes reflected people set in deep remorse
Can't say her mind if the goat would 'suicide'
But that I can suppose : transformation of the force-
Gandhi and his goat led each other as guide