Kolkata, West Bengal
He’s got horns, a tail, and a mustache so grand,
But food doesn’t tempt him; he’s not in demand!
He never cries when struck, he just laughs away,
Wraps his tail tight and brings it to play!
When hunger strikes, he swallows the breeze,
Doesn’t fret about sorrows, sings with ease!
Sometimes for fun, he flips over and rides,
Feet in the air, with his head down low, he glides!
When he’s angry, he beats his chest with might,
At night he covers his head, keeping out of sight!
With a fever, he dives in the pond, bare and sleek,
If asked why he does it, he stays mystique!
He’s not very tall, just a foot and a half,
At his sight, even pumpkins would laugh!
Though his belly is big, he feels sorrow deep,
To cure it, he plays doctor, his secrets to keep!
When embarrassed, he hides his face from view,
Sucks on salt and ginger—what a curious brew!
Indeed, he’s the uncle of the Ramgorura, true,
A curious creature, with antics anew!