Meenas Poems
Age calls for attention.
There is less tension,
but more apprehension
commanding a revision,
controlling a deviation,
bringing in appreciation,
reviewing combinations,
assigning permutations,
accepting confrontations,
announcing celebrations,
expecting an invitation,
to depart.
Birthdays are for kids many affirm.
Weddings bind two people say
Sixtieth celebrations are for the middle-aged nowadays
Eightieth function are for the old mostly .
Cenetenary are for the lucky few.
Every one irrespective of age indulge in ostentation nowadays
Functions come one after another compelling attendance,
They demand presentations and gifts
They enforce hours of chit chatting,
Thus inviting more trouble than cordiality,
When would all these become a private affair?
When would all these attain an austerity?
When would people learn?
It was a search.
It was a thorough search,
leaving everyone in the lurch.
It was a raid.
It was a thorough raid,
exposing everything that was discreetly laid.
It was an investigation.
It was a thorough investigation,
unravelling everything from the closely conceived distribution.
It was an exposition.
It was a thorough exposition,
laying bare the well conceited deviations.
It was a fraudulent.
It was a thorough fraudulent,
directing to an unscrupulous deceiving indulgence.
It taught a lesson.
It was a moral lesson.
delivering that integrity has a beautiful designation.
The lateral thoughts,
emanated from the unilateral meet,
where bilateral talks
gave way to trilateral discussions,
complying all multilateral references.
Mortals think they are immortal.
Rich feel they are absolutely insulated.
Powerful assume they are invincible.
Wise observe everyone with zeal.
Thus goes the world round and round
unaware of its impermanence.
Going back is never too easy.
Back tracking is ever too easy.
Keeping up the promise is never too easy.
Eating up the words is ever too easy.
Hearing slander is never too easy.
Listening to praise is ever too easy.
The world moves on round and round.
The interruption of movement is never found.
People’s talk reverberates with full sound.
Their activity advances never with a bound.
The life becomes meaningful with wealth abound.
No other means seeks a serious wound.
Living in the middle of conceit and greed
Man accepts the reality with a distinct breed.
Well, money has always been the prime need.
It is a requirement to arrange a feed.
What then is the crux of the deed?
It is something that directs to a bleed.
This transaction has been going on for years.
It has been carried out without any fear.
Nestling behind the scene in the rear.
We trace a slight jerk which is out of gear.
The affinity for wealth is found with extreme cheer.
As a finale it is held to the bosom so near.
A gift bought with care,
unmindful of fare,
was a piece very rare,
bearing lot of credentials to share.
proposing many features in pair.
It was brought across the shore,
was priceless even more.
The special feeling it bore,
was the core,
enhancing the significance by a score.
Reaching the destination finally,
it was unpacked carefully,
Lo! it was damaged slightly.
the tear was visible obviously.
The precious gift lost its value immediately.
It is a four letter word.
Call it what you may.
It is on the sign board.
It denotes a place.
Many names are below it.
They also stand for places.
The four letter word stands first.
Look at it, nothing else.
The command reckons.
She being a scholar stays put.
She gazes at it from afar.
Nothing is visible.
The colours blue and white sparkles.
She sits puzzled.
She sees no letters
She perceives a writing vague.
She squints her eyes.
Tries to decipher.
She could not.
It is a four letter word.
Shouts the voice.
She keeps silent
She has become an illiterate.
She expresses a wry smile.
She makes no noise.
It is packing up once again.
It is a periodical schedule all again.
A month here and a month there all again.
puts one to no profitable gain.
A long drive down the road,
in the Express Highway broad,
is pleasurable for not too often trod,
exhaustively tiring for a monthly slot.
Up in the air for half a day,
right from the morning ray,
sitting with a fastened belt all day,
p
ushes one to the edge of the bay.
Formalities at the port of departure,
leaves one in discomfiture,
Similar rituals at the arrival is a feature,
creating agony and exertion in a single capture.
The up and down movement is throbbing.
What for the mind starts probing?
Might be to clinch a fortune is the lobbying.
Alas! it is a meaningless expedition almost a robbing.
Little did Lina knew about it.
Little did she talked about it.
Little did she care about it.
Yet, she was thrust into it.
The much she knew about it.
The much she talked about it.
The much she cared about it.
She was let out of it.
So much to know about it.
So less to talk about it.
So much to care about it.
Lina was more or less away from it.
As much to think about it.
As less to speak about it.
As much to attend to it.
Lina absolutely ejected it.
That much thought about was a trash.
That much talked about was a bash.
That much cared about was a gas.
She discreetly committed a thrash.
Well, it was a cock and bull story.
Well, it was a series of tales hoary.
Well,l it was a compiling of events unholy.
Well, Lina relinquished herself totally .
It might sound vague to all.
It might read incoherent to all.
Better it be an enigma to all.
It is best to be so to all.
Meenas Poems 