Meenas Poems

The chip chop in the kitchen 

with the cook getting on the run

he always in a hurry

as if some one is ravenously hungry

or be a school going kid  preparing to get ready

wanting his breakfast on the table

or be so an executive running g high

as time is flying in a  speed

with the breakfast getting late

with no such identity in the vicinity

the cook turns frantic in the early morn

pulling the knives from their place

banging the pans with a sound

cutting the onions in speed

while som fall down unable to cope

he shrieks and murmurs himself

chiding the onions for having slipped

and scolding the carrots for being too thick

as the milk vendor comes in with a whistle

the cook’s next human target

who shouts at him at the top of his voice

crying that  his morning tea has been delayed

running to the stove to place the kettle

doing all this with a precipitation

for no reason what soever

as the master of the house is in the patio

reading the morning newspaper

and who has not the habit of sipping the  tea

as he  breaks his fast daily

after taking his morning bath

well over nine in the morning

the cook wanting to finish the day work

wishing to chit-chat with the staff

who turn up for duty at nine in thee morning.

What a show it is every morn

a drama in real life seen without a penny.