Raising Three Boys: A Strain, a Drain, But Not in Vain – Culture – Blogcritics http://ping.fm/Kqns6
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Author: meenas17
A lover of classical Carnatic music.
An avid reader, passionate writer, into stocks and investments for livelihood
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Nature in a Frame
It was a beautiful landscape.
Though not very extensive,
All forms were naturally shaped,
Flat, hilly, valley, padlock all in a derivative,,
Hedges , plants, shrubs, trees altogether tufted,
Presenting a picturesque bouquet decorative.
The rose plants displayed an exotic colourful hue,
Spreading a lovely mild fragrance along the path,
The hedges extended a little high clue,
As they guarded the way without wrath,
The tall trees lent a shadowy cue,
As they gave a shelter with greenish bath.
The flowers blew over each other,
Raising a nostalgic intoxication,
The shrubs fell over one another,
Reviewing a luxurious sensation,
The huge trees bowed up and down on one another ,
Redirecting a sumptuous consultation.
The green grass ran all through,
In between the plants in gaiety,
The thick green carpet retold a grow,
As large stretches of infinity,
The lush green lawns proposed a bow,
Commending the creators ability
Insignificant I want to be,
Unknown I like to be,
My lineage matters not,
My way of life is a sort,
Educated to meet my requirements,
Though had a spectacular ranking averment,
I grew up to be a silent spectator,
As my share was gobbled by an impersonator,
I prefer to be away from all,
Always in time for a call,
I like to remain calm,
Though still in form,
I do not talk about others ,
But get antagonized if talked by others,
I am dubbed as being proud,
As I never once bowed,
I am very strong in mind,
Equally sound in kind,
Want to know who am I?
Nay not ,
I maintain anonymity.
The wrong side of fifties is taking its toll,
Once a gentle walk is now a tottering fall
Once a strong determination is now a frailty,
Once a powerful memory is now a forgetful folly,
Once a force to reckon is now a powerless weakling,
Once a reservoir of ideas is now an empty lurking,
Once a cynosure of all eyes is now an eyesore,
Once an affable synergy is now a tough bore,
Years role out in spectacular speed,
Stealing the lovely charm indeed !
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Man Makes Them All.
The air around gets choked,
The voice of most becomes hoarse,
Many cough violently.
A metallic sound emanates –boo,boo.
Fumes rise up from far,
The eyes turn blood-red,
Tears flow down in a dizzy.
A sobbing sound gets in – hiss,hiss,
Vehicles produce carbon emissions,
Choking man and nature together,
Implicating a catastrophe deliberately.
A chaotic commotion wakes up – ugh , ugh
Cigar smoking emit carcinogenic tobacco
The lungs become weak,
Short of breath triggers fatality.
A silence is remarkably felt.
Who makes all these?
The powerful man makes them all,
To aid him in his ventures plausibly,
A voiceless, cheerless , breathless, dead 
man emerges.
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At Last The Snails
The garden abounds with fresh vegetables,
Ripe tomatoes sweep the pathway ,
Green chillies hang midway,
Eggplants bloom in purple along the causeway,
Leafy cabbages represent a royalty all the way.
Rains fall in a heavy downpour,
Flooding the garden in an uninterrupted sway,
The lovely vegetables get soaked in a desolate gay,
The earth looks like a marshy tray
Snails big and small move about in the way.
They go about in a pace so slow ,
Coiling and recoiling in a manner so graphic,
Drawing into their hard shells seem so specific,
Over a period they multiply in numeric,
The garden encounters a danger symbolic.
The water recedes gradually ,
The soil happens to look like a slushy muddle,
The vegetables lie rotten in the muddle,
The snails track down the puddle,
The garden appears like an unsolved riddle.
Birth of you keeps me wondering,
Family of you makes me thinking,
Friends of you get me embittering,
Actions of you are detesting,
Oh ! tell me why you are so infringing?
Your deeds force me to undertake a study,
Up I go with my frantic search ready,
I got a background of your family already,
No wonder you are so undisciplined and greedy,
Committing faults mightily gaudy.
The eldest of you is a school drop out,
Talks incoherently in a shrill base throat,
Clad in shabby, unkempt attire throughout,
Thinks he is a perfectionist in a float,
Vitally he is a treacherous cut throat.
The next in order is the only educated ,
Speaks in measured terms not affected,
Dresses up in impressive clothing well-managed,
Behaves with charm and grace absolutely dignified,
Truly he is an elegance finely styled.
The third of the family is an empty head,
Prattles in broken disorganised thread,
Wears the most unsuited dress code ahead,
Poses himself to be well read,
Really he is a snobbish dread.
A family so different I rarely find,
Not looks but thoughts also differ I extend,
Integrity also has a graphical bend,
The siblings move on to the end,
With their own specific blend.
(The four brothers are products of imagination.The poem refers to none dead or alive)
Living in a materialistic world,
Where money has a fastening hold,
Where gold has an exasperating fold,
Love and relations wear away in cold,
Mercy and compassion look old,
Where jealousy and greed appear bold,
As monetary gains fabulously enfold.
Different kinds of money reign supreme,
Colors black and white take the cream,
Black money encourages the dream,
It gets concealed in the beam
White money flows with the stream,
It adds revenue to the tax scheme,
As financial profits accrue the steam.
Economy is controlled by the powerful,
Wealth is circumscribed by the deceitful
World at large is influenced by the tactful,
Prosperity is found among the handful,
Poverty oppresses the truthful,
As money gleams wonderful.
.
| Article first published as Crime Wave in Malaysia on Blogcritics. |
Malaysia is in the grip of fear. Fear emanates not from external bodies, not from invasions, not from economic constraints, not from internal troubles, but from petty thieves. It sounds ridiculous and silly, but it is very much the case.
Burglary has become a part of Malaysian life. Newspapers report episodes of daylight robbery and incidents of housebreaking as headlines.
These miscreants indulge in snatching chains, rings, pocketing money, stealing credit cards and mobile phones. If anyone resists, the thieves turn violent. They slit open the throat or cut the fingers with sharp penknives and bolt away.
They decamp with cash and jewels from townhouses and private residences. As most Malaysian buildings have tiled roofs, the thieves easily remove the tiles and get into the main living area. They warn the inmates of dire consequences they will have to face if they report the robbery to the police.
Temples also get looted by these burglars, who enrich themselves by grabbing expensive ornaments made of gold and studded with valuable diamonds. On their way out they lift the lockers filled with devotees’ contributions.
There is still another way of stealing: small-timers rummage through plantations and harvest fresh fruit and bunches of oil palm and sell it for immediate cash.
The police patrol the vulnerable areas on motorcycles and in cars, flashing a bright light and honking frequently. They do only that much. It is a stylish way of going about the town with authority and power, but it does not catch criminals or mete out any punishment.
This otherwise beautiful country with tropical rain forests and a long coastal belt, with a stable government, with a sound economy, with three races living in harmony, would compete for the safest place to live in if not for this glaring discrepancy
Read more: http://blogcritics.org/culture/article/crime-wave-in-malaysia/#ixzz1cKmF9N1Z
Read more: http://blogcritics.org/culture/article/crime-wave-in-malaysia/#ixzz1cKm4b7bb
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Crime Wave in Malaysia – Culture – Blogcritics http://ping.fm/i5Auu
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