PHONE CARD

by John Herlihy

Who would believe it
When confusion sets in.
We spend money on valuables
And they get thrown in the bin.
Those terrible children are to blame
Without giving anyone in particular a name.

Abu bought his wife a phone card
So she wouldn’t use up the money on his card,
Talking her way into heaven on earth.
It was a brilliant idea made in heaven,
But Abu is now left with zero dollars, instead of seven.

Ami, here is your money,
Put it into your phone.
You can talk all night long if you want
That way you can leave me alone.

Najma picked up the phone slip
With the number written in black
She stuck it under the tablet
So that no one would eat it as a snack.

But Haseena was feeling hungry.
Her stomach was mumbling and angry.
She wandered over to the tablet
And she found to her surprising wonder
A delicious looking piece of paper,
Peeking out suspiciously from under the tablet
So she ate it full like a cookie wafer.

Najma found the piece of paper in the trash
The phone money eaten into a meaningless mash
Who could have done such a terrible thing.
“Haseena,” Laila cried, like a bird with a broken wing.
The children like to blame each other and never tire
Even if each one of them is an experienced liar.
Haseena looked around looking guilty as sin,
Then burst into tears amid the glorious din.

Now the mother is too much sad
And Abu is also feeling very bad
“Now I can’t call my mother and sister,”
Ami suddenly said with a start.
Something crawling into her heavy heart
With a feeling of dread on her part.
“And I will buy no more phone cards,”
But Abu kept silent, thinking to buy another card..

Haseena has eaten the money,
And is feeling the worse for wear,
Hanging her head in shame
She must now accept the blame to bear.
She quickly fled under the blanket of her bed
So she could fall asleep and thus forget her pain.

And so ends yet another story
In the long saga of the Pashtu clan.
We will wait for another sunny day
For the naughty children to have another plan.