Temples are for worship and prayer,
They are no place for ostentation,
They are no space for distraction,
They are no case for exhibition,
But a portal for religious reverberation.
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We see the Almighty as an idol,
Signifying mercy and Peace,
Symbolic of grace not tease,
Denoting piety not appease.
Revealing a sacred denomination.
Darning the icon with gold,
Decking it with diamonds dazzling,
Adorning it with rubies glittering
Decorating it with emerald shinning,
Exhibit a colourful hue.
The idol bejewelled and bedecked,,
Looks astonishing and amazing,
Lights up the desire unnerving,
Kindles the enthusiasm undeserving,
Towards a deviated turning point.
An artificial recreation clamours,
Dispelling the rapturous recitations,
Diffusing the fervent allocations,
To a commercial presentation,
Setting an incoherent grandeur.
The sanctum sanctorum emits a holiness
Purporting a spiritual transcendentalism,
Eliciting an ardent devotionalism,
Spreading a feeling of sacredness,
Away from the mundane activism.
The decked up idol in all its man-made glory,
Lacks the gravity and serenity,
Has lost its poise and divinity,
Defeating the essence of sanctity,
Enabling a demoralization of credibility.
Meenas Poems 