The Scandalous Secret Of The Shoe-Maker

There lives a man, a mender 
Of the shoes, never tender,
Angry as they pour!

There lives a man, an expert
Of the lost art, really hurt
At injustices galore!

“Be it a hooked specimen, or one numbingly stinking 
One that didn’t seem to be one, a sad paltry poor thing.

Be it the one that had been nailed before twice,
Or the one, in which too shortly, there lived a mice.

The one which had trod a mile more than a camel,
Or the one leaking muck (more often than a mammal!)

Oh! I have seen all kinds, all sweaty states of these,
And Oh! I have bound, and sewed and clogged
And nailed, and still do as much as I please.

But a thing that hurts and duly stings, a secret full of grief
I will tell you the saddest truth, and I swear I’ll be brief.
I must tell you (Who else I would? You seem a lad, you do!) –
I do, Sir, mend and make and nail, but I haven’t got a shoe!”


I wrote this to cheer up my friend (Kaku!) He felt the contrary! Do tell me what you feel. And also if you want, read a new short story I’ve written, The Bridge-Keeper:

Once upon a time a boy decided to die. It was a brave decision, a product of poignant propositions and grim persuasions. Achilles knew he would die young which made living a tad less complex to him. This boy was to end his complexities too. There was no Patroclus here who had been killed, there was no Briseis here who had been wronged, and there was no glory here after death. Yet it seemed to him the only answer..


11 thoughts on “The Scandalous Secret Of The Shoe-Maker

  1. amazing ! its like ,i gave my six years to people telling them about love and relationship but i never had one in life .ha ha ha great poem Aashir .
    sometimes your comic poems add beautiful flavor in life which is too busy in pretty fast lanes.
    i know a comment must be short but i have something for you

    Every time i close my eyes its a dark paradise…..

  2. Cobbler, cobbler, mend my shoe
    Get it done by half past two.
    Half past two is much too late!
    Get it done by half past eight.
    Stitch it up, and stitch it down,
    And I’ll give you a half a crown.

    your poetry reminds the sacred memories of the sacred heart, in which every one was kaka, chacha, uncle, bhaiya, and many more.. but in the present scenario the persons are differentiated as, rich, poor, male , female, high profile, low profile and not possible to write even…

    keep these memories alive as these improves the human values and yes! always try to give shoes to a person who is mending it for you…

  3. You’ve made my day with your comment! I had in mind all the quirky, lovable characters of our childhood, both fictional and real, while writing this poem. The old woman who stealthily went to her home in a big pot, or the cobbler in the poem you mentioned.

    And sadly shoes aren’t mended these days, they are simply replaced with new ones.

    Thanks a lot, sister..:-)

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