In between the walls,
inside the rooms
windows opening
into the garden.
which let me see
the outer world
though a limited dimension,
I spend the days.
Weeks, months and years
have rolled in their own space,
but to me it is a doldrum
moving in snail’s space.
Like a caged animal,
I pace up and down,
move from room to room
a body in motion.
My cars will go out of gear
a start, a raise and a switch off,
performed to keep them alive.
I open the gate, doors, so as to keep
them working. Goes the laundry,
the cooking, watering, bathing,
cleaning non stop cause
life has to go on.
Meenas Poems 