Mama is good in all,
But in Math, she's so dull.
Ask her what's seven into seven,
She would answer eleven.
Ask her what comes after ten,
"I'm not well.", she would feign.
But in each annual test,
She comes out as the best.
In Math, with perfect hundred,
She scores, of others, far ahead.
Like Afghans, a poor line-up,
Winning the cricket world cup,
Like Indians, same poor line-up,
Winning the football world cup;
Can you ever imagine
That two plus two is nine?
But it's true for Mama,
Who creates this annual drama.
Hush! Hush! It's for her father
Who's the school's Math teacher.
But to complain, don't dare,
He's not a stuff to spare.
If you've scored ninety-one,
He'll make your score nineteen.
- N P SAMAL
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