Meenas PoemsMissing the time
catches you on wrong foot.
time flies in speed
waiting for no food
time jumps over
crossing the flood
time hops on board
going through a float
time stumbles never
persuading no flow
time chimes on time
ringing all time.
We save money for our children.
We invest in shares and stocks
multiply the money in geometrical progression
buy properties and allow them to appreciate
thus grows money in arithmetical progression
purchase gold in lots and in kilograms
which again hops up to heights
Well, we have saved a fortune for our progeny
and live in peace with the aim to earn more.
The life goes round earning and saving money.
We forget the rest in an easy memory loss.
Having spoilt all the natural resources
having excavated volumes of sand from riverbeds
making them now look like a desert.
having felled all trees for ruthless expansion
leaving the ground dry and desolate
having dug the earth deep for water
turning it into a tattered empty shell
having resorted to artificial coolers and heaters
emitting carbon monoxide destroying the ozone
having adapted to fast food culture
resulting in terminal illness and speedy death
having fertilised the crops with inorganic manure
subjecting the mother earth to a chemical reaction
converting her to a barren unproductive land.
What are we going to leave to our children?
A waterless river running all through
A land without any greenery .
A ground with scars and holes.
An ozone totally shattered.
A generation bereft of immunity.
An unproductive land where nothing could grow.
This is what we have saved for our offsprings
who would see no springs or lakes
but envisage stretches of land
bare and torn very 
badly injured.
Endangered by the epidemic
with dengue and malaria on the anvil
mosquitoes humming in rhythmic
saying that monsoon has failed in the wheel
scarcity of water being the cause of misery
the civic authorities remain dazed in ignorance
knowing not what to do to stop the infectious emissary
as all along they had been busy in reference
not to their duties but in filling their treasury
sharing with not the have-nots in inference
but making their families revel in wealth mostly
now the tiny insect has bit them so hard with a difference
stinging them not physically but in a way discordantly
hitting their morality forcibly 
that they stand in preference
accused in front of the public and legality
with true sense of guilt and indifference
The moon haunts me
with its glory and shine
never it is less than fine
waning and waxing in nine
a fortnight it grows
a fortnight it fades
a cycle so expressive
a scale of economy
with growth and fall
seen mostly in recent calls
a yardstick for man while living
flourishing and thriving
crumbling and deteriorating
found all through the existence
a denote to the world in a sense
which sees great movements
punctuated by rise and calamities
all in a cycle and all very natural in entities
as the new moon gradually in
ascends and becomes full in course
and the full moon equally in browse
descends and turns nil in source
a way of life in terms of resource
symbolising rise and fall in a way
with an illustration of the day
once every month in a pray
and twelve times every year in the say
Could we expect in all the influential sway
a better master than Moon ?
The rising sun
grants great fun
as it is in the run
slowly going up
reaching the top
with the mid noon
scorching great
burning like hell
the sun overhead
then slides towards west
subduing its fiery flight
sets finally in the opposite
leaving the land cool
releasing a temperate zone
nice and lovely with magnificence
great and sound in diligence
a lively feel whatsoever.
As a little girl
I used to fear
sound that turned harsh
noise that rose to be loud
talks that became poisonous
meets that converted to revolt
friendship that bore ill will
love that was superficial
act that was feigned
altogether I was disturbed
seeing all these very young
around me in plenty
as years went by
I became strong
faced these incongruities
without fear undaunted
emerging invincible
the rest of my life.
Laughing with the wind as it blows
Living with a song in a melody
Leading like a light as it flows
Leaving with no noise in rhapsody
Is the choice most wonderful
I wish to acquire in custody
want to attain most hopefully
with a rest eternal in glory.
The creative mind is never at rest
always sets the ball in motion
might look as it is doing nothing
but really ideas get growing
with the mind almost all time pondering
figuring out artistic creations
either it be in writing or painting
or might be in architecture and artistic creatives
be them in wood ,clay, stone
diamond , gold and platinum
leas
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0JUFjTOM32g
t might come from the humble straw
along with match sticks and iron
goes the creative process with great enthusiasm
left alone the music and dance
which crown the artistic creativity
with great shine and illumination
this wonderous procedure culminates
and crosses the pinnacle
with a voluminous fame and reputation
that deliver a high sophistication
and renders a charming ebullience.
Moving around without any particular work
going with no definite proposal
getting involved in nothing imminent
doing little errands in a proper scope
has been the way of my life for some time now.
An easy designation that has come forward
almost without any pressure and strain
living the day as they come and go
makes me a lazy lethargic individual
Well, I fear, if any essential work load comes up
I would be thrown out of proportion
and would end up in a deliberate fall.
It being slippery
she held her support firmly
taking a step forward
away she went down in a blow
tumbling on the slippery floor
hurting her knee and head
the bone broke into two
the nerves got cut into halves
lying unconscious there for a moment
then pulled by some unknown
that much she could remember
what happened then after
got revealed into an untold story
hard to hear the narration
harder still to see the torment 
she lay like a vegetable
a beautiful girl lost to the world
all in a sudden within a second
that be the end of the life
impermanent and temporary
Yet, man speaks with ire
behaves like an authority
thinking he is immortal
not learning by experience
nor realising the mortality.
considering himself omniscient
and omnipotent always.
Meenas Poems 