Where Have You Gone, My Kin?
They throve well in Chennai as a community
with more than 3000 species loving each other
and casting bogus votes during the polls.
Distilling and selling arrack was their wonted trade.
They identify their kin by the length of proboscis
as people do by a beard or sword,
a cross-belt or a cross round the neck,
a big moustache or a tuft of hair,
a ring around the wrist or by a dialect spoken.
They have built castles as Dengue, Flariasis and Malaria
and sworn to mosquitovise the whole earth.
Some enter the jungles and hills
for suckling the tribes with the love of their faith.
Some of them are taught Kungfoo and Karate,
the martial arts to smash the opponents with guts.
As you, the biting heroes are away,
the flies here paly by picking pockets, snatching chains,
breaking into houses at night, carrying hawala money
or smuggling drugs by superfast trains.
You have a chip of your own with secret codes
and so your whereabouts are not known.