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?
The evening was sultry and hot.
There was no breeze to cool out.
It was unpleasant all through.
While sitting heaving and puffing in the patio
Got calls from friends in a row.
Each one expressing a strain sad
Emphasizing the unkindness meted out.
The senior one wished to die
holding strongly destiny in her hands.
The other one cursed his siblings to a tragic death.
adorning himself in a prophetical garb.
The last one was in bad health.
Depression had taken its toll.
He had shed his snobbish pride,
Lo!looked demure and desolate,
The poor weakling wished nothing, cursed none,
He only longed for peace to return.
These added up to the heat around.
Making one to think and think aloud.
Finally found out that
Happiness is within ourselves
Not anywhere else.
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.
It was a toughest and a depleting moment.
It was a strongest and a deadly hit.
It was a more or less a moral disarmament.
It was an attack highly unfit.
The players were wrongly poised.
One side was loaded with strength.
The other was weak but juxtaposed.
The uneven status reposed a tug of length.
The majority went about with much fanfare.
They were drunk with enormous power.
The lonely set about with subdued affair.
They remained calm in an isolated tower.
The advocates of law confirm that mighty would win.
The task of the powerless would dissipate as dust.
It would be so in most issues but not in fronts genuine.
The manipulating schemed would certainly go bust.
Initial setbacks should not be a deciding factor.
The painful struggle would reap a fortune.
That which stand for truth might be a detractor.
Surely sincerity would harmonise the tune.
So say the epics and the ballads in a lively tone.
Mythology embedded in them elicits morals with illustrations.
The incidents and the routine affirm the same with a groan.
It goes without saying that truth triumphs with distinction.
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.
Eat vegetables calls the father.
Drink fruit juice pleads the mother.
Take cereals for breakfast shouts the father.
Have a cup of milk compels the mother.
The six-year-old has a lot to bother.
She prefers chips and muffins altogether.
She looks beseechingly at her father.
She turns lovingly at her mother.
Her eyes express her desire rather.
Would she have her choice? a pointer.
Never would she we gather.
Meenas Poems 