It is India

Buffaloes lie in the middle
of the road. Cows saunter, 
garbage lies in heaps,
bikes and cars follow no rules.
Could this be India?

It is, I say, perfectly.
A common sight, as 
one espies. An eyesore,
making one frown. An obvious 

Unmindful sensibility  is apparent,
Insight of the other side, reveals 
 the neatly  swept front yard
 of the house with colourful Kolams .

The daily baths, even twice a day 
by the people,  sweeping , mopping the floors,   
fumes from  sambrani  release fragrance. 
the poojas   in the morning and evening

extend a divine feel,  The contrast 
as of the exterior and the interior
seems clueless.  Could it be attributed 
to the mysticism of the ancient land?