The east slog
all through the fog spins and blends
builds and blends
makes and toil
all go in a foil
while the west
takes it for a test
sells them on its own brand
Crafted, exquisite and grand
the eastern countries manufacture
the westerners go off in a stature
that is what I see in the malls
the eastern expertise gives a timid call
from where they are in the inner labels
as the artefacts lay there on the table
Well, it is the pain I experience
as I with moist eyes gather the inference
textiles and kitchenette,
hardware and other indents
carry the name of the nations
that lie in the eastern destinations.
Do they receive the proper compensation?
or they stay demure with paltry intimations.
Gosh! incidentally the sun rises in the east
Meenas Poems 