“How dare you wash my classy shirt  

with your torn socks in the same tub?”

The boss lashed, caned the boy.

The boy was instructed  

to eat in a separate clutched plate;

drink in cracked cup with no handle;

sleep in a thin bed under a cellar.

The boy cooked foods for the boss,

even massaged when he felt sick,

was assured that they were brothers,

sent by god to help him in troubles.

But how dare he wash  

the branded, silk shirt of the boss

with his socks,

purchased in a local fair?

By Bimal Kishore Shrivastwa

From: Nepal