Meenas PoemsIt is windy all through
the windows creak and shriek
followed by a stand
still.
it is stormy all through
the doors crack and creak
followed by a standstill.
It is rainy all through
the roof break and leak
followed by a standstill.
It is race all through
the heart bursts and stops
followed by a standstill
f
The world without women
seems to be uncommon
why not we create the world?
how can we make the world
?
let us appeal to God to change
do an alteration in a range
a place without a woman
male alone lives as human
could you imagine, my friend?
how would be the trend?
there would be no growth
in a time lead to a loathe
relations would flourish
there could be nothing to cherish
soon smile would disappear
stagnancy would slowly appear
you could find no competition
the result is an incompletion
knowingly man turns chauvinistic
make the woman agnostic
extend a little of your passion
embrace her with affection
the world would be different in a sense
bliss would descend and it would be heaven
The rhythm and chant
the hymns sang in a way
took me to a trance
not I understood a single word
yet they held me enraptured
it is a language less known to the world
the rhythm goes into the heart unaware
the feel, the throb and the vibration
makes one sit with thoughts nowhere
it is an unrecognisable penetration
holds you in a sway with a share
be that of a merge with the divine
the language Sanskrit being one of the Gods
It is the females
who depend on always
first on their fathers till a certain age
then on their husbands for ages
have no stem of their own in place
independence never could be in their space
however sharp they are in their mind
not the ability is taken as a kind.
she has to remain behind a man
be it at any age without a demand.
The face shows who you are
a reflection of the feelings
like a mirror is the face
cannot hide your stealings.
The mirror will not tell lies
it could hardly deceive you
it in a way never shies
tells your looks in true.
The deception you design
would not adorn your face
they would appear as a feign
and throw you out of place.
The dislike in your heart
displayed in the facial expression
tells what runs in the plot
relating itself to the distraction.
Nothing could you conceal
be it good or bad
your eyes give you in a deal
be it happy or sad.
I panted and heaved
took a moment to ease
turned back to see
could not find anything amiss
I brushed m sari to a neat fold
pulled my hair and tied it into a knot
wanted to dab my face with cool water
so walked towards the tap in the garden
checked the bolt of the gate
exhausted slipped on to the garden chair
the run I experienced just now
has left me breathless all the more
it was a dog not very big
crossed the road while I was waiting
came towards me know not for what
I fear dogs the most in my life
whether they are friendly or ferocious
the sight of the dog sends a shiver down the spine
when I saw this not a frightening one as such
I took to my heels and ran as fast as I could
the dog perhaps perplexed followed me in full speed
I negotiated through the lanes and corners
the dog came behind me speedily
I fled for fear of life
saw my gate wide open
I barged in and locked the gate
breathless I stood there for a few seconds
ashamed of myself and my fear
I went inside the garden
before anyone could see me
made myself presentable
but it was too much for me to endure
my breath became normal after an hour of respite.
This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.
The 
game of cards
shuffle and ruffle
the same numbers gong together
the numbers in order getting closer
spade, hearts, diamond and clover
gain an impetus with the joker
the games go on for hours together
betting and challenging with dollars
a game that turns into stakes higher
seriousness sets in as the players gather
the value increases manifold becomes dearer
it is a fortune for the winner
a terrible loss to the loser
all these never prompts a halt
as the gamble progresses to glory.
Great I go
with a bow
need not be too low
a little high bow
condescending is lovely
so a bow is primarily
a stoop not lowly
little in slowly
could lead entirely
a realization inevitably
dawn on you gradually
a truth not hastily
says you have stooped to conquer
Wrinkles on the face
seen in phases
say as you age
you become a sage
so in your thirties
see a line scanty
a trace of a line
you ignore and push on
in no time it is forty-one
you see in the mirror
could be a glare
you think for a while
then brush aside in style
walk past the day
the next time in the day
you stand before the glass
not one of the plain glass
again the mirror on the wall
find you looking tall
something is amiss
could it be a bliss
nay not it is a wrinkle
not one but two or three
here and there
looking awkward
seemingly runs inward
around the mouth in lines short
little freckled and knotted
the worry settles in
now how to combat the appearance
go to the face yoga work- out
smile for two minutes in a stand
your face muscles are rejuvenated
stand before the mirror and see yourself
pronounce the vowels softly within yourself
a, e, i,o,u slowly and fully with lips rounding
could find a lot of improvement upcoming
next pull up your lips and hold them together
smile as much as you can stretch them to a flatter
a beautiful impression would follow you in time
one another exercise on the schedule
pout your lips as if in a kiss in an include
repeat all these thirty times in a row
would be done in just a few minutes even be it slow
tell me how you look after the course of lip 
yoga
I would then practise and create a saga.
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The colours I see on the top of my page
red, orange, yellow green and blue
make me wonder being 
strange
I see it for long without a clue.
Could it be for a breach?
nay, I have not violated
Could it be then a praise as such?
I have not done anything to be appreciated.
Well, then why is it there?
I stare at it for quite some time
not able to arrive on anything in a share
I gaze at it with cheer with a smile.
Meenas Poems 