And today, a poem:
Tipu Tiger, how do you do?
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| Wikipedia iuage |
Tipu Tiger, how do you do?
Locked away far from home,
can you call your master where you are?
Roar, Tipu Tiger,
and eat that white British,
he's delish,
but be careful of your tummy!
Tipu Tiger, what do you see?
Surrounded by foreigners,
can you run home to where you belong?
Be still, Tipu Tiger,
before the eyes of the white British,
they're skittish,
be careful of their clumsy hands!
Tipu Tiger, what do you think?
Is muggy England like India,
can you taste the passing of time,
so long since you were home?
Wait, Tipu Tiger,
maybe someday you'll be bought home,
brought home, come home,
eating that white British
all the way home.
When I was about 5 mum took me to the V&A, and of all the things I saw there this was the one that really stuck in my head. Poor old Tipu Sultan! I always feel like he was one of those leaders of the Chinese states before Qin Shi Huang came along: he's the guy saying "Hey, stop squabbling, there's a new threat here that's REALLY BIG" and everyone else is going "yeah sure like we're going to fall for that one".
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