It is a commitment.
without any indictment
little did I know
I would be pulled into the flow
I was not in the arena at all
somehow I was dragged by a call
I innocently fell into the trap
caught in between unable to flap
struggled hard to come out
in an ambush all throughout
fulfilled with competence
this could be an inference
Pottu or bhindi in the face
is not a mere trace
it is a staunch belief
a custom with relief
among the Hindus in all
mostly women follow the call
men do at times place it on the forehead
the kumkum shines modestly in red
a tradition of Hindu religion for long
has diffused to the minimum as if it is wrong
as modern women opt for something light
just a dot or a pinpoint very slight
almost not visible to the naked eye
why so? I ask myself in tries
Christians wear a cross around the neck
Muslims wear purdahs mostly black
not shy away from their customs to a cost
Hinduism is an ancient faith
tells us of the values infinite in straight
vow to adhere to the system in all ways
an enhancement to the religion always.
The house in itself
stands divided
most of the shelves
seem to be undivided
The apparent remains together
almost resembles a pattern
the virtual differs altogether
follows a lightless lantern.
The mind makes a hell
out of the beautiful
it builds a heaven in a tell
with a practice rueful.
So go the ironies and metaphors
with paradoxes and oxymorons
the house with all tragedies to refer
becomes a place of moan.
Nice to read.
Nice to write.
Nice to play.
Nice to eat.
Nice to cry.
Nice to laugh.
Nice to walk.
Nice to sleep.
Am I being frivolous?
Well, that is what we do in tremendous
might be a difference
some do them more
some do them less
depends on the individual
that be the way to live
with other ablutions
and most other tabulations.
There prevails a contempt.
There lies a scorn.
There exists a distraughtness
There are so many apprehensions
The life goes on without expectations
moves on with a lengthiness
difficulty whatever has to be borne
as the life is beyond a pre-empt.
The loud blast of the speaker
nettles and shuttles the ears
the noise gets into the brain
causes a propositional drain
the head reels in a dizzy
the conscious oscillates in a frenzy
not happens to one but to all
yet the speakers go without a call
unrestricted in their own proceed
unknown to many around
it is a pollution of the sound
worse than the air prone
as the noise holds a serious tone
a menace to the human in all
a mishap to the society in full.
The cries shrill
came from a steep hill
enough to kill
