by
Ankita
hen I was small,
About six or seven,
I used to ask my Mum
A question very often."What does Papa do?
He is never at home
And often I don't see him for days,
Like I see you.
Mum, tell me, will you?
What does Papa do?"Her reply would be,
"Papa is an electronic engineer."
And then smile at me,
"Now, don't disturb me, dear."I would ignore her and ask.
"In office, what does Papa do?
He is never at home
And often I don't see him for days,
Like I see you.
Mum, tell me, will you?
In office, what does Papa do?""He works with telephones;
That's all I know.
And if you are satisfied enough,
Will you please now go?"I would then kiss her and say,
"Thanks a lot!
Have a nice day!"
And wave at her and jump away.One day my friends asked me,
"What does your Papa do?"
"He is an electronic engineer," I said.
Confused, they asked, "Electronic engineer? Who?"
I proudly thumped my chest and said.
"He climbs long telephone poles,
And fixes the wire
And repairs all the telephones
Isn't he brave, my father?My friends rolled with laughter
Until tears rolled down their eyes,
So very embarrassed was I,
I should have been a bit wise.But now I am almost a teen
And I still don't know."What does Papa do?
He is never at home
And often I don't see him for days,
Someone, please tell me will you?
What does Papa do?"
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