Meenas PoemsIt is a dainty flower
lovely and tender
gay it looks
beside a brook
being very small
it looks not tall
catches the eye
crucially with a sigh
not one of heave
but of sieve
goes into the heart
strikes with a start
transcends into peace
joins together all pieces
of the mind and thought
to a totality found anew
Indeed! a genuine renew.
A community to which I belong
known for its munificence for long
a small conglomeration it be
bankers in profession they be
lived modestly all through their life
built palatial houses during their life
well, that be the activities in the past
now the role of the community is cast
difference in their outlook mostly
their prospects overturned greatly
demand dowry for their sons all the most
understandable in the Indian context
do also ask for the mother-in-law
who brought to the world a son without flaw
the latest I heard was a million in count
follows in queue other accounts
where comes the claim for the sixth month
call they “marunthu kudithal” or “theertham kudithal”
while the girl is in the family way
then arrives the child in time
the mother-in-law calls for a celebration
name the ceremony as “vilayattu petti vevu”
funded by the girl’s parents with deliberation
you would by now imagine there comes the end
nay it traverses through the bend
with many more formalities to be accomplished
as there be festivals all throughout
Deepavalli, pongal, and “thiruvizha “
throng
multiply the submissions all along
these happen almost in every household
the son becomes an investment as he grows
the revenue the mother receives is multi fold
many a people like me simply behold
not able to bring a change
any protest raised is thrown aside
the community acts ruthless in this paraphernalia
not ashamed of these transactions inter alia
The Dharma I know
not he the brother of Arjuna
of the epic Mahabaratha
a man of unreasonable pride
takes us on a joy ride
speaks of his wealth and pedigree
though they vary in degree
goes on a pilgrimage often
wife also in the run
his children left alone in a way
gone wayward in a day
the eldest lives in the world of drugs
makes the others to shrug
the second girl has gone astray
now become sober they say
the youngest is a son
is almost half done
a mixture of both the siblings
beats his wife into the ring
the mother joins him in the fare
the wife unable to bear
walks away from home in disgust
Dharma now is under arrest
that be the end of the story
sounds it not a little hoary
yet it is most recent
from people not decent
My papers fly
towards the sky
could not stop them by
see them with sigh
Oh! my papers I cry
they are precious I vie
Lo! they have flown away
not able to retrieve them any way
those gone are gone anyway
seek to record again 
is the only way.
Into the streets I walk
find I there no stalk
let alone the vegetation
there is much pollution
there I find no greenery
Only they look very dreary
soot and black fog all around
congestion and crowd in the round
noise steers across in loud
the din causes a strange bound
there is activity commercial
transactions go ahead in official
the street walk is no more pleasant
there is no fun and at times not decent.
First cannot be replaced
best cannot be displaced
rest cannot be effaced.
The primary is vital
the secondary is trifle
the infirmary is in hassle.
The original is sober
the artificial is a glimmer
the rehearsal is a falter.
Thus goes the world
pretext is closely held
truth collapses instead.
A verse great
does not have a rate
commends beyond date.
Slept I like a log
a while forgot my blog
a peaceful sleep it was
nothing to disturb at any cause
hours went by in length
came a call with strength
was about to wake up
when a hand-held me .
I saw a woman in her mid fifties
smiled she with love
caressed my hair with care
felt she had a piece to share.
She called me by name
I looked so tame
wondered how did she know
a woman from many decades ago.
With a graceful move in all sides
asked what made me talk about her
more frequent these couple of days
is there any reference of case?
I blinked all the more in a quandary
said she with poise she is my grandmother
who passed away sixty-seven years back
few months before my mother’s wedding.
Startled I sat up with a shock
said she not to panic at all
in a very soft tone told me her life
when she was a devoted wife
a mother of five children
sacrificed everything for their welfare
yet not remembered by any of them
during their life time all the more.
They became the shadow of their father
great was he in his achievements rather
they knew that she was the woman behind
yet not commemorated her in trend
she did not bother about fame in life
she yearned for a reciprocal slight
Is it an unusual demand? she interrogated.
not at all grandma, I meekly replied.
My children are dead and gone
your mother was the last to go
You sing about me very late
I read your poems about me
they made me happy and sad
wanted to pay a visit to you
to offer a big thank-you.
I held her hands with reverence
apologiz
ed for my late impasse
somehow I told her these two days
her memory crossed me all the way
set the recollections in a canvas
the best one would be in my blog
the private area where I log.
Well, this would circulate through
let my cousins read through
my nieces and nephews understand
the woman who was both pleasant and stoic
realize the suffering she endured all her life
physical ailment was not well attended to
leave alone the agony of the mind .
Where are you? I whimper
I am to my place you answer
say you with a shine in your eyes
at least I remain vague in your memory
you who have not seen me at all
retain a trace of my memory
with that satisfaction I fly back
my blessings always unto you.
Obsessed by thoughts
mostly of my ancestors
more of my grandmother
on the maternal side
these two days I dwell
gathering the anecdotes
told by mother in my teenage
a kind woman she was
short in stature
tall in thoughts
patient and stoic was she
been so quick in handling with tact.
The time of the inauguration
of her husband’s first spinning mill
which was the seed of his industrial empire
her two –
year old son died
she kept it within herself
never cried or broke down
lest her husband would be distracted
held the child in her arms
close to her bosom tight
the man came home stood there she sullen
with a warm smile all the more
relaxed he with a cup of tea
shared her grief with him
on one side was his commercial gain
on the other was his personal loss
prosperity and tragedy coincided
the wife who stood the test of times
did not stay long on earth
to see his rise and wealth
Well, that be the irony of the day
a paradox of the nuptials in stroke
comes to my mind the words
they also serve who stand and wait.
Unnoticed she lived
Undermined was her gentle nobility
unsung she died.
Quiet she was
Quizzed not she with buoyancy
Quarreled with none.
Lived beyond era
Lively and wise in tone
Legend not known.
Mother of five
modest and pragmatic in approach
mercenary never in thoughts.
Raised the five
rendered all bounties she could
restricted them not.
Liberty she granted
liberal she was with all
languish she not.
Husband so tall
heights he reached with struggle
her hands behind.
A humble soul
alienated by the life’s toll
away she went .
Her life tells
hinder not anybody even for play
heinous would it be.
Sung none about her
Strong she was all the more
Sense dominated her.
Meenas Poems 