Meenas PoemsInto the world of serfdom
I awake.
Into the world of delirium
I rise.
Into the world of hatred
I see.
Into the world of audacity
I go through.
Into the world of scorn
I am put in.
Into the world of contempt
I am pushed through.
Into the world of envy
I live through
That be the world I perceive
That is the world I look around
That would be not be sound
But that is what is found.
The rustling leaves call me
the lashing rains hail me
the fierce wind carry me
the burning sun tan me
the human scorn kills me.
That way we be inhuman
that way the inanimate be human 
None can destroy the other
be it in material or 
going about in great vigour
leads to a destruction seemingly a derail
the rightful one losing entirely
the wrong-doer making merry over his catch unlawful
which all go about for a period short and temporary
but as days get ahead in enormous speed
there arises an apparent deficit and downfall
not in the side of the loser as it might look indeed
but highly in the edges of the malignant call
as the evil doer fails miserably
while his wrongly acquired wealth
disappears all of a sudden unbelievably
while we turn around and see over the bridge
we find the rightful owner happy and content
with what little he has which is a blessing for sure.
With the day breaking into a morn
the sun came up and shone
making the world glow
as the movements got into a flow
with a rush and a push all over
the sound and bound in a hover
a clamber there and a clamour here
the world gets busy and noisy to hear
meantime the sun rises up to the top
sending a significant warmth atop
the world tuning weary and tired
with its inhabitants getting fired
both by their heads and the sun
there being a desire for fun
which sets in with the sun going down
while the evening gets across
and the world gets back the loss
indulging in fun and mirth getting deep
till they go back to slumber and sleep.
The morning looks dull
with people not seen about
nothing happens in full
as there is none going out.
What be the cause I wonder
I could infer nothing so far
as I think about in a ponder
I trace nothing great ajar.
It might be a holiday, I conclude
holidays are spent not at home I know
as people go over with a schedule
visiting places with glee in a row.
What else would it be? I think aloud
while my son sits facing me with a tease
What is your botheration now? he talks loud
Keep going not thinking of things in pieces.
Telling him of my deliberation straight
he unable to control his laughter
holds my hand and says with words right
you have other things to care about now and after.
Still my mind persists on its thought
wanting to know why the day is lifeless
my son reaches me with a plot
taking me into the city for a drive never
theless
The prying mind is never at rest
wanting to know about the rest
putting over other things far aside
goes about smelling stealthily in all sides
trying to extract from the deficiencies that prevail
intending to decimate the harmony that is in a veil
with a pleasure sadistic it works with a will
then intervenes with a cunning kill
scooping out the catch with a thrill
dissipating the peace and tranquillity that fills
releasing trouble and pandemonium on the way
relishing the chaos it has unleashed in the fray
it sits back with happiness and excitement in the end
having gained a lot in the intermediary trend
both of having destroyed the opponent cunningly
and having been rewarded with fortune seemingly
Well,
that be the mind’s inquisitiveness in full.
I write for what I do not know.
I write what I do not know.
I write why I do not know
that being the status you know
I go on with my writing
penning pages after pages
pouring my feelings unbridled
coming out of spontaneity in the run
going with an acceleration in the go
never do I stop once for a breath
nor do I break once with my stress
but go on with my writing schedule
almost all time morn or night whatever it be
there be no crisis or hindrance.
This way goes my life all through
with fun and happiness through and through.
She being concise in whatever she did
being precise and bearing 
no-nonsense attitude
things went on well as prescribed
while people showed their gratitude
as she went about rendering service great
helping others when in need and with great faith
her softness and less speech got misconstrued
people branding her as a person proud
calling her as one who walks with nose in air
the reward she gets for doing good to others
ends up in meaningless gibber and insensible gossip.
Unfettered by all these clauses and clasps
she passes on her service to those who require
that being her support to society in good faith
not thinking of the appreciation or admiration
which she would never get however true she might be.
The jaunt I undertook became a vocation
while a vacation became an occupation
as that which I see not came into my stream
that which I expected all through deserted me.
Is this a destiny all the way ?
Is it an irony with a sway?
I deliberate not with gay.
I ponder not with play.
I
The focus having been shifted elsewhere
The thought being rooted nowhere
The movement went everywhere
finding no lead to go anywhere
turned to a chaotic condition out over there
finally dissolving into the vacuum then and there.
Meenas Poems 