Meenas Poems

I call Harun
ask  the rate
Next I reach Bharat
note down the cost.

Not enough, I 
personally go to  Vishal.
Discreetly jot down 
the price.

In the middle observe 
the quality. Which one 
will be appropriate?
I weigh the pros and cons 

 I choose VIshal’s.
  reduce the price 
by 2 Rupees,  A bargain! 
I beam with a smile.

 All  efforts   for purchase of 
terracotta tiles. I save 
 5000 Rupees. Hind sight 
  I feel I  am mean.

The sixth sense of Man
reason makes and mars
his demeanour.

Mammals and reptiles
act on intuition,
impulsive they remain.

Comprehension teaches Man
to be good and kind, if
learnt in the right way,

Once his objective turns perverted
pandemonium surfaces
deceit, envy and greed outweigh.

Man aims beyond his reach
succeeds, loses his head
turns inhuman,

as is seen widely among
powerful and wealthy.
Many leaders go crazy

behave insane, act devilish
rule like a maniac, purport
racial distinction.

Animals remain close to nature,
never try to overreach, show
no malice, remain stable.

They act on impulse,
do not succumb to
deceit and envy.

The juxtaposition
leaves a trail of entities
positive and negative.

.

Of recent, I am worried,
haunted by thoughts
as what would happen?

if the cushion is left
uncovered, if the
lawn is not mowed.

I turn desperate,
deliberate and despair
of these ordinary ones

mostly in the nights,
I remain sleepless,
sit up and straighten often.

An hallucination, as it seems
acts with a fervour
making me a despondent.

Insignificant and immaterial
they cause a conflict in my mind,
endangering peace and happiness.

he talks of himself, says

his fight for his share
in inheritance is endless.

His brothers deny his rights
refuse to deliver.

He decries the custom
of his community,

where adopting a male is common
when the kartha has a daughter,

his mother- in- law being born
in such a family, he curses the system.

He bemoans, pines and fret
thinking of his lost wealth.

It is been a day
where the rain plays
truant.

It comes and goes
enacts a spoil
sport.

I climb down the steps
walk towards the gate
rain strolls behind.

Rushing back more or less
wet, I wipe myself dry.
The pour pauses

Sighing I walk again
this time crossing the lane
the showers beat me heavily..

I turn back almost soaked.
change my dress, dry my hair
decide not to venture out.

The sun comes up from behind
the day turns sunny and bright
no more rain

Fooled, I am at home
having missed an important
interview, one that could
have changed my life.

destroys the temples
speaks ill of religion
says “only dumb idiots
believe in God”.

Hailing from a family of purohits,
Swami’s father, Ishwar, is a Vedic
scholar, traces his ancestry
to the Surya vamsa

The forefathers performed
ashvamedha yajna, one of the royal rituals
of Sanatan Dharma. His wife
and father unable to bring
him back to God, cry in silence.

Swamy, a race car driver,
crashes into a bridge,
falls into a trench lies unconscious
with multiple fractures.

He survives but remains crippled.
His dad chants the mantra
Lakshar faraun hardi neel
Garkh Shuddha jahan!

Swamy recovers. He returns
to faith, turns a believer.
A resurrection takes place.
Swamy is born again

The mattress is hot to touch
the pillow turns equally warm,
the walls emit unusual heat,
while the wind through the
windows is humid.

I wet the floor to keep
the heat low, the damp tiles
send out a coolness. I lie
on the bare floor, use
my hand as a pillow.

doze off in no time,
The afternoons reel hot
in peak summer when
the mercury crosses 103
degrees most days,

Air Conditioners fail
so do the electric fans,
None can compete with
the raging sun, a disbelief
but very true so to say

pure cotton dresses

and the bare floor provide

the required respite.

An aunt of mine
cheerful and cherubic
holds no grudge against anyone,
altogether a noble soul.

She is obese, extraordinarily
huge, short, blunt,
a bag of flesh,
bulging and hanging

as much as possible.
She walks, moves,
squats, lies on the floor
does with ease.

She ties her hair loosely
a string of jasmine adorn
her kondai. wears bright
coloured sarees

design blouses
complete her outfit
decks herself with
jewels matching.

rubies go with red saree,
emeralds with green one.
other pastel shades go
with diamonds, precisely selected,

not educated, nor
informative, in short naive
aunt leads a carefree life
without any plan.

her husband dotes on her
while her children grow
cared by dad alone
turn responsible,

while two of them fall behind
in discipline, she does not bother.
it is not her custom to gossip,
nor pass comments.

Her body mass does not poses
an issue does not mind other’s
talk of her size and attitude,
her toothless smile compensates for the rest.

Her goodness glistens, her
innocence grants an unexpected
loveliness, as she stands tall
amongst her well read relations.

One which goes on
moves with a force.

That which stays on
remains without a push.

Movement is energetic
like the rain and river

in full flow, Similar
the grass and roses,

grow in strength, a graceful
synergy one of prosperity.

Static is lethargy, where
stagnation extends

a lull, noticeably nothing
happens, a stillness

akin to vacuum, an alignment
to inaction, not an encouragement.

Day dawns, night descends
the world goes on with rain
and sun.

Dogs bark, cats mew,
donkeys bray and loiter
as free as ever.

Birds chirp, tweet,
pick and peck
fly ‘with the a vigour.

Man stays at home,
wants to be safe,
to keep away Corona