Maharaja Blues

 (A Valentines tale of a Maharaja who thought he got the Blues and his Maharani who really did) In the kingdom of Ragapura,  near the temples of old Madura, beneath skies of crimson and teal, lived a Maharaja with a secret zeal Twas not for his Maharani, his true seal of approval was for a bluesy feel. The Maharaja sure loved the blues! Strummed riffs at breakfast, lunch, and tea, and even in the royal loos! The Maharani sighed, “He’s ignoring me.” The Maharani forlorn, her loyalty challenged and torn, her temper bubbling like hot chai, Watched his attentions wither and die. For whilst he crooned ‘Oh Why, Oh why’, she was the one left high and dry. He strummed his sitar sideways, With bent notes till dawn’s first light, wailing, “Ooooh, I love my royal taxes!” Whilst palace guards winced all night. So she sang her lament, with a classical bent, a sad rebuttal in C! And as her love life shatters, “Ooooh my man loves Muddy Waters, more than he loves me.” She tapped her sorry ref...

Maharaja Rich leaned back on his velvet cushions, stroking his chin with the seriousness of a man contemplating the mysteries of the cosmos. “Tell me, Miku,” he said at last, “if two witches would watch two watches… which witch would watch which watch?” Maharaja Miku the Bard did not answer immediately. He tapped his bass, once, twice, as though tuning his thoughts. Then, with a sly smile, he began: “Ah, my Maharaja friend  Watch the watch that ticks to which witch’s twitch.   For every tick that meets a twitch,   And every tock that finds its twin,   We’ll know which witch will watch which watch The twitching witch’s watch will win.” Rich blinked. “So the witch with the twitch watches the watch that ticks to her twitch?” “Precisely,” Miku replied, adding a quick bass run for dramatic effect. “A witch without a twitch would watch a watch without a hitch. But a twitching witch must match her watch, lest time itself grow confused.” Rich considered this g...