Meenas Poems
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
It is a philosophy
not an atrophy
but a win-win trophy
ideas being lofty
thoughts bear a hefty
there is nifty
as well as thrifty
could trace a frugality
and a clarity
though they are a reality
they show a tranquility
with a sense of stability
found with a lot of equanimities
could this be the great philosophy?
A togetherness in a crowd
is a quality to be proud
how many of the loved
travel with humility in bowed
each one has the ego in a cloud
which echoes itself in a loud
the one over there cries aloud
the other one here shies cowed
with that comes a skirmish all in a way
followed by a tussle all through the day
that keeps each other in a bay
the protagonist and the antagonist stay
their chauvinism turns sour and loses
that much for the togetherness
where solidarity remains in the wilderness
and the loved ones trail i
n blessedness.
A stream I espy
reflects the sky
it feels shy as it runs
and runs across
with no flaws
goes on in a toss
could see ripples mild
a swirl and a twist piled
it flows almost filed
the flowers float in pairs
the fish swim with care
these be the noble shares
we notice in the stream’s hold
as it gently passes in the fold
the waters not very cold
it is a beautiful expression
nature’s priced installation
a glorious yet modest representation
Meenas Poems 