Meenas PoemsThe tradition I like
be it in food
be it in attire
like to wear and eat
the age old
might look out of date
know not why I am so?
blame my mother for it
could be the family background
brought up with a restriction
nay not restriction
could be the discipline
the strictness and the outlook
instilled in me from childhood
being active even now
at the ripe age
what is taught at your initial years
shapes you into what you are today 
Pottu or bhindi in the face
is not a mere trace
it is a staunch belief
a custom with relief
among the Hindus in all
mostly women follow the call
men do at times place it on the forehead
the kumkum shines modestly in red
a tradition of Hindu religion for long
has diffused to the minimum as if it is wrong
as modern women opt for something light
just a dot or a pinpoint very slight
almost not visible to the naked eye
why so? I ask myself in tries
Christians wear a cross around the neck
Muslims wear purdahs mostly black
not shy away from their customs to a cost
Hinduism is an ancient faith
tells us of the values infinite in straight
vow to adhere to the system in all ways
an enhancement to the religion always.
A family I am familiar with
known for its modernistic feel
westernised in every field
be it in living or eating style
think high of the other side
speak not their own language
lisp in an Anglican style
hold their nose high
with a patented name
they are that way in a side
have another appearance in a mode
that to be too much traditional
and very much sticky to the community scroll
follow each ritual in the fore and to the core
such as the formalities that go with it
be that the step by step formulas
programmed by their ancestors with diligence
right from prenatal to death with an inference
blindly adhered to now for the sake of it in the go
with the money achieving the centrifugal sho
w
a contradiction the keeps me beyond comprehension
an irrelevancy that overwhelms the complacency
know not what to do appreciate or depreciate?
It is a tradition on the move.
sticking to the values in a grove,
shunning the deviation in a blue,
passing on with a conservative flew,
implementing a decorum true,
gliding she crosses the avenue like a dew.
Her move is an enthusiasm lively.
With a charisma she proceeds gaily,
with a stamina she presides sternly.
with a discipline she conducts firmly,
with an energy she works untiringly,
taking her to the step of victory.
Tradition is not only in her attire specially.
It is found in her speech almost admiringly.
It is seen in her manners all the most specifically.
It is explicit in her character very distinctly.
It is visible in her demeanour most explicitly.
Tradition makes her look tallerexplicitly, than everyone else totally.
Meenas Poems 