Rare paintings in age-old temples,
Reveal volumes of history,
Depict scenes of the past,
In colourful artistic splendour.
These monumental sketches,
By artists of yore,
Are rare treasures passed on,
From generations to generations.
They tell us about events,
Teach us the customs,
Discipline our lifestyle,
By illustrations of traditions.
Restoration unmindful destroys,
Kill the beauty forever,
As the significant exhibits die,
In the hands of ignorance.
Renovations have to restructure
To garnish the lost glamour,
By reinventing the charm,
In conservative constructions.
The present day efforts,
Put forth a suicidal trend,
Wiping off extensively ,
The delicacies of the past.
A painting is a creation,
Of the mind and soul,
It is a profound release,
Of thought
and imagination.
True art has no replicas,
As they are spontaneous,
Born only once,
Never to be created again.
Such being the state,
An extreme care is the need,
Bidding a requisition for a challenge,
Most similar to a virtuous patience
Meenas Poems 