My four feet high pedestal fan
a mixture of blue and white
with buttons red, green, yellow
and black
twenty -five years of age
looks pretty clean, wiped
every day, serviced every year,
hitherto ran smoothly
with a humming noise
fussed midway
with a bustling noise
growing audible
as the hour advances.
Oiling would arrest
the incohesive sound
I think.
only to find the loudness
turning most pronounced.
Annoyed, I push t
he so long faithful fan
to a corner.
Resignation dawns
Well, if that be the case
of a 25-year-old fan
Where do I stand?
–
Meenas Poems 