Sitting on the steps of my home
a long time favourite of mine
I spend most of my evenings
till the mosquitoes turn active.
My eyes see the greenery around
ears go out to the noise in the lane.
I remain vague with the mind
travelling through hills and river.
In and out through the past I saunter
the schooldays hold me for awhile
the college years for short time
those with the family stay long.
Sipping my freshly brewed Masala tea
I reminisce the happenings, bygone
and recent, chuckling when
going through funny incidents,
grieving while I think of the departed,
expressing them a little aloud.
Those near will dub me one
out of her senses.
The Steps are the Bodhi tree
where I receive enlightenment
like Gautama Buddha.
Meenas Poems 