Meenas PoemsA lover of classical Carnatic music.
An avid reader, passionate writer, into stocks and investments for livelihood
The fall I met with
not one of great
it be a physical
broke my leg
not actually in sense
a misstep caused the havoc
hurt in the knees
sprain or fracture
do not I know
pain turns sharp
where to complain?
i sit with tears
my mother gone for long
my father also flew before her
my husband would be shocked
with the sons all far away
I sit with tears without a move
I sit there for long.
The don’ts
I hear daily
starts with the morning tea
with the warning right
tea is injurious to health
bread is gluten prone
milk has a lot of fat
restrict on sugar
consume less salt
do not fry or deep fry
sleep not in the afternoon
sit not long on the computer
not relax in the couch
watch not the television for hours
goes on the list with many don’ts
do’s are very small
don’ts are long and many
know not what to do
know what not to do.
The early bird call
is a sign of spring
be that in the west
we call it “vasantham”
a lovely season
the word be in itself
a synonym of prosperity
where the earth abounds
with crops and grains
where there hangs a smile
all faces do light up
the weather turns pleasant
the sun shines not so right
stands there moderate
emits not fierce heat
be there rains intermittent
renders the land cool
the winds blow gently
the breeze kisses the land
as thy flow with ease
that be the call of the birds
early in the morn
to awake the man
who sleeps in an enclosure
not aware of the fascination
nor realises the grandeur
that rise up in the wee hours/
Heard I a story
not of a fairy
of a family
where the elderly
as well as the young
talk with overtures
a boast of their wealth
a lecture on their health
list the cost of each tablet
enlist their expenditure on clothes
tabulate the jewels they have
count the properties they own
Well. it was a drone
proved a lengthy bore
difficult to hear more
unobtrusively made way
through the hot day
pant and heaved did I
with a long sigh
How long I have heard ?
How much long should I hear ?
It is a dainty flower
lovely and tender
gay it looks
beside a brook
being very small
it looks not tall
catches the eye
crucially with a sigh
not one of heave
but of sieve
goes into the heart
strikes with a start
transcends into peace
joins together all pieces
of the mind and thought
to a totality found anew
Indeed! a genuine renew.
A community to which I belong
known for its munificence for long
a small conglomeration it be
bankers in profession they be
lived modestly all through their life
built palatial houses during their life
well, that be the activities in the past
now the role of the community is cast
difference in their outlook mostly
their prospects overturned greatly
demand dowry for their sons all the most
understandable in the Indian context
do also ask for the mother-in-law
who brought to the world a son without flaw
the latest I heard was a million in count
follows in queue other accounts
where comes the claim for the sixth month
call they “marunthu kudithal” or “theertham kudithal”
while the girl is in the family way
then arrives the child in time
the mother-in-law calls for a celebration
name the ceremony as “vilayattu petti vevu”
funded by the girl’s parents with deliberation
you would by now imagine there comes the end
nay it traverses through the bend
with many more formalities to be accomplished
as there be festivals all throughout
Deepavalli, pongal, and “thiruvizha “
throng
multiply the submissions all along
these happen almost in every household
the son becomes an investment as he grows
the revenue the mother receives is multi fold
many a people like me simply behold
not able to bring a change
any protest raised is thrown aside
the community acts ruthless in this paraphernalia
not ashamed of these transactions inter alia
The Dharma I know
not he the brother of Arjuna
of the epic Mahabaratha
a man of unreasonable pride
takes us on a joy ride
speaks of his wealth and pedigree
though they vary in degree
goes on a pilgrimage often
wife also in the run
his children left alone in a way
gone wayward in a day
the eldest lives in the world of drugs
makes the others to shrug
the second girl has gone astray
now become sober they say
the youngest is a son
is almost half done
a mixture of both the siblings
beats his wife into the ring
the mother joins him in the fare
the wife unable to bear
walks away from home in disgust
Dharma now is under arrest
that be the end of the story
sounds it not a little hoary
yet it is most recent
from people not decent
My papers fly
towards the sky
could not stop them by
see them with sigh
Oh! my papers I cry
they are precious I vie
Lo! they have flown away
not able to retrieve them any way
those gone are gone anyway
seek to record again 
is the only way.
Into the streets I walk
find I there no stalk
let alone the vegetation
there is much pollution
there I find no greenery
Only they look very dreary
soot and black fog all around
congestion and crowd in the round
noise steers across in loud
the din causes a strange bound
there is activity commercial
transactions go ahead in official
the street walk is no more pleasant
there is no fun and at times not decent.
First cannot be replaced
best cannot be displaced
rest cannot be effaced.
The primary is vital
the secondary is trifle
the infirmary is in hassle.
The original is sober
the artificial is a glimmer
the rehearsal is a falter.
Thus goes the world
pretext is closely held
truth collapses instead.
Meenas Poems 