Beloved Sri U.G.,
This is the fifth of the five poems you propelled me to pen. 
I cannot claim anything for these five outpourings, 
as they were spontaneous, effortless and solely due to your blessings. This is:

5. The Real U.G.

1) He is a diamond with many facets,
A natural tape-recorder, sans any cassettes,
Says, "The brain has a very minor function,
An antenna at best, not worth the mention."

2) I met you late is my constant lament,
You should never have come, is his laconic comment,
The medicine he talks of is not in any book,
To be his doctor is a risk I never took!

3) He says the Calamity is a biological change,
Every cell in the body set to rearrange,
The only one to affirm that you can't take it,
Show up all the others who only fake it!

4) U.G. is unique, to say the least,
Everyone's treat and the pride of the East,
A "poor Indian" with no money to spare,
That is U.G., with riches beyond compare!

5) "Who are you and what do you want?"
Is his constant telephonic taunt,
We are the bees and he's the honey,
Sidetracks us saying, "Earn more money!"

6) He avers that the glands took over,
The thought structure forever lost its power,
He is like a declutched deluxe car,
Splendidly radiant like a shimmering star.

7) A persona no one can presage, 
"Get lost and stay lost," is the message, 
Can we really make out what he states? 
If only we can, we may open his blessed floodgates!