She, a senior,
lives alone in a big city.
Has no help. Never attempts
to hire one, .unlike me
who gets upset when the cook
does not turn for work.
She owns no vehicle. Makes sure
to attend every festival,
celebrations on time.
Walks briskly, dines out,
travels in trains and buses,as much of
it looks fresh as a May morning.
I look at her with awe,
try to be like her alert
and agile. I am not a match
to her at any cost. I need
comfort at all places.so much
resemble a dull wintry sky.
The contrast seems so marked.
She, in her eighties, is an inspiration.
Have never seen her sulk, nor find
her caring, It is her life , she says,
Lives as she wishes unperturbed
of what other’s say.
Meenas Poems 