Sweating profusely
I wipe my face
with the sari pallu
Dong goes the bell
tucking the sari
around my hip
I rush to the door.
Shabby, unkempt
with my hair
flying in directions,
the end piece of the sari
wet with my sweat
adds to the disorder
disgusting and repelling!
Dressed in choice outfits
poised and elegant , a lovely
smile lit large, a dainty
lady and her stylish husband
cross past me . I see myself
in the mirror on the opposite wall.
A phantom like reflection,
a ghastly figure, attired
in the most hopeless way
the big round black eyes
keep rolling like an unfocused
lens. gasping I murmur,
What a contrast! Aiyo!
Meenas Poems 