Anger disaster Poetry smelley

The Messy I am —A Disaster

it is the morning

the sun rises in the east

well, You would be knowing

I sprinkle water first

mixed with cow dung

around my porch  effusively

the odour begins now  with the dung

ithe inmates would find it  repulsive

but I, for one, go by tradition

on the green coloured patch

a kolam is done as a rendition

the powder is made out of rice

a pleasant smell adds up to the charm

My morning chores call me loud

meantime,  I rub my hair with gingelly oil

heated with  garlic and pepper

a mild pungent smell emanates

with the oil in my head

I grate the coconut and chop  the onion

add a pinch of asafoetida

I prepare the morning chutney

an aroma fills the air

it is so lively and appealing to me

you would think I am crazy

as you sniff and sneeze through

I rush to take my bath

apply shikakai  profusely over my head

turn the shower setting it to warm

a luxurious bath I undertake

much to your chagrin  and fury

while the house is wrapped with this odour

I come out  to dry my hair with the fumes

coming out from the burning cinders

that flare up with the sambrani  powder

the white fumes come up in circles

a faint pleasant smell to me in the go

the house now smells different

then I march into my kitchen

again to  the  onions, garlic and ginger

the dhal  and vegetables, tamarind  and curd

all combine together  in proportions

let out a mixed smell on the whole

my chimney extracts the most

certain times it  overworks

and fails to do a perfect job

all the food prepared  is packed

the remains dumped in the refrigerator

another treasure house of the  odour

the vessels are left to be washed

they release a  smell   offensive

as they lie there for hours

waiting for the arrival of the maid

the odour builds up  gradually

the atoms and the neutrons combine

the kitchen becomes  stuffy

I myself could not tolerate

I just close the kitchen door

throw open all the windows in the house

keep the main door wide open

.and sit waiting for my maid

I am happy , happier and happiest

to see  her come in

at last she is there

My maid comes in a hurry

opens the back door  with a heavy push

and in half an hour time cleans the vessels

dries them and arranges them in the shelf

dusts and sweeps the kitchen

washes the floor with  the cleansing liquid

the stove and the walls are wiped smooth

she attend to the washhng area with a dedication

never she is  miserly in the usage of water

it is I who think about water

as we have acute water shortage

she scrubs and mops the area  forcefully

the kitchen appears pretty smart and lovely

next she enters the main living are

sweeps and mops the floor

removes the dust and cob webs that hang around

does it so meticulously with care   and ease

as I sit there watching her

with an open mouth

my jaws open out in aghast

as to the mess I have confirmed

and the cleanliness my maid has affirmed

I am blogging for <a href=’‘ target=’_blank’>#SmellyToSmiley</a> activity at <a href=’\’ target=’_blank’></a> in association with <a href=’‘ target=’_blank’>Ambi Pur</a>

annoying. Poetry traffic

A Tough Day

A tough day indeed

a to an fro trip

makes one tired indeed

never felt so before even a bit

now  it is difficult

with all the amenities in the way

the best of the  drive

the  Mercedes on the road

a perfect driving to match

and a lovely  Malaysian highway to lead

not a long sojourn

just a two and a half hour

seem to pull all my energy

there come the aches and pains

with an exhaustion and an exasperation

too bad as it is of now

mainly owe this to the traffic

not chaotic but too much of a rush

with signals and tolls many

one way and sign boards confusing

all these force me to sit at home

not want to be a caught in between the moving cars

one of these could be the culprit

I feel it is rather the first  to blame

the wish to be in a comfort zone prevails


as it is annoying to meander through in peak hours

a real experience killing and mind boggling.