Meenas PoemsThe euphoria is lost.
The atmosphere is serene.
The weather is biting cold.
The living metabolism is defunct.
The business has shrivelled.
The enthusiasm has shrunk.
The spirit has dampened.
There is uneasy calm.
It is a preamble to depression.
My telephone cable got snapped on Saturday.
Excavation work was going on ,for laying some underground cable.
The workers, carelessly gave a strong dug on the cable. leaving 150 telephone lines dead for almosr three days. I do not possess a mobile phone.
My work got paralysed, my contact with the outside world was almost nil.
I felt like Wordsworth’s “Solitary Reaper”.All alone, singing ,moving about in my garden reading my favourite books, listening to music, absolutely insulated from the incessant jarring my telephone emanated.
This lasted only for a day.
My friends and well wishers, got apprehensive and were upset, as to what had happened to me.
They called each other, but no one was able to give a tangent answer.
They ,then drew a master plan.
They grouped themselves into three. The first set, came to my house, the next morning, .They hesitated near the main gate, They slowly pushed it without making the least noise,, usually my gate creakswhen it is pushed with force, moved silently through the pathway,and reached the main door. blissfully ,reading the newspaper.
The front door was slightly ajar. They peeped through, but unable to find any human activity. Their heart was pounding. Perhaps,they thought that I must be dead. Then mustering courage , they took a step further, crossed the main door.The suspense was too much for them.Visibly moved and with fear in their eyes, they made way to the living room.
My divan was facing the wall. The room was still and silent.It was also chill, cold and damp ,because of the heavy rains .
They came close to my reclining divan.Once they spotted my straightened legs, their courage disappeared, their heart sank,. With shaky movements they advanced. I was engrossed in the newspaper. I was not at all aware of the motions around me.
Seeing my comfortable posture, my friends let out a shriek. I jumped out of fright and got on my toes, my hands were searching to find a stick to guard myself from unforeseen attacks..
I broke into laughter, when I saw the group.
My giggle was uncontrollable. My friends also joined me.
It looked as though they had rescued me from terrorists attack.
My phone got resumed just now.
Feeling melancholic,
Laugh out,
Experiencing isolation
Laugh out,
Getting panic,
Laugh out,
Nurturing frustration,
Laugh out.
Brooding the lost ,
Laugh out.
Calculating the cost
Laugh out.
Recollecting the past ,
Laugh out.
Envisaging the future,
Laugh out.
Accepting the fate,
Laugh out.
Mumbai has been shredded,massacred, hideously tormented.
The expeditions, gunshots.bullet and grenade dropping , the sound and fire, are reminiscent of a mini war .in monumental Taj and High storied Oberoi.
It was an aggression with a difference, hotels as warfields.
200, innocent lives have been lost.Trade delegates, a bank chairman and a manager,top police officials, hotel chefs, waiters, management trainees,and a host of customers of the famed Taj and Oberoi, La pold .have fallen dead.
People have no faith in the government, in politicians and in the state administration.
We have to fall back on ourselves, rely on our strength.
The political ranting ,the useless governance, should be hit hard.
We should make a coordinated effort to activate the machinery .The top leaders, have done nothing to the country, but filled up their coffers.
Their petty in fights, their dominating arrogance, their exotic orations, their audacious paraphernalia have caught up with the media.
The hypocrisy should be out witted, their disguise as upright entities should be torn, their goody goody image should be tarnished their ineffectuallity should be exposed,and their circumvention to infidelity should be revealed .
These rugged leviathans, should be shown their place by the people’s coherent attack, by casting their votes against them in the coming elections.
Voting rights should be exercised without fail, for that is the only weapon we have.
The power is within us , to make life worthy living.
We want a safe , hassle free, pleasant tomorrow.
.
Interviews evolve qualification.
The assessment of an individual is done by formal consultation.,which includes ,rating scales,self reports,personality inventories,projective techniques and behavioural observation.
Interview , encompasses personality appraisal, propaganda testing,public opinion poll and social methodology , according to Encyclopedia Brittanica.
A play school is conducting interviews for admission.
A 3 year old is subjected to such rigorous testing .
The child and her parents are called for an interview by the school, on a particular day.
Meantime , the parents give coaching to their child ,with such vigour and strictness.
The child is compelled to learn the names of colours,to decipher shapes, to identify animals, to count, to spell out the alphabets, to talk fluently, and behave like an adult.
The kid, does everything ,as taught ,at home, but once it gets into the school campus, it develops, a fear, ,a withdrawal emotion, gets puzzled,and makes a mess of the interview , much to the chagrin of the parents.
The child’s admission is a big question .
The parents admonish the poor child for its breakdown.
A child , is like a petal , when handled roughly, it gets dishevelled and disoriented.
Education should not be a compulsion, but a reverberation.
It should enlighten and enliven both the teacher and the taught.
It should be an interesting programme, a pleasant syllabus, and an enthralling edifice.
Will the schools stop conducting interviews?
Will they focus on educating the young mind?
Will they refrain from replenishing their kitties, by levying exorbitant fees.?
Formulating a Young mind , is an honourable task, a selfless service, a pleasurable experience, and a god sent blessing.
Mumbai, has once again,come out of shock ,very quickly
Marine Drive , saw many walkers taking a brisk stroll in the morning.
Death is staring at you from one end of the sea.
Life is smiling at you from the other end of the sea.
Fire and smoke emanate from the riotous expedition.
Cheer and hope emulate from the courageous population.
This is the spirit of Mumbai.
Mumbai proclaims that death and life, gloom and hope,hatred and love,hostility and amity,loss and profit,simplicity and ostentation,denial and agreement,gravity and flippancy,danger and security, are occurrences of daily life.
Nothing comes to a halt .
Nothing gets jolted.
Nothing goes astray.
Blasts, clashes, shooting, wreckage ,the most heinous of all crimes, emboldens Mumbai.
Stock market downturn, economy meltdown, business loss,insulates Mumbai.
Mumbaikers face all odds with equanimity,as they are truly business oriented .
Every symptom .good or bad , means business.
Profit is their motto.
No wonder, they rise from each tragic compulsion with added power and extended glory.
Mumbai ,the city which never dies, offers a new dimension to life, an illustrative philosophy. an endearing principle, and a chivalrous approach.
Mumbai ,is most prone to terrorists attacks, bomb blast. There was a seige of explosions and firing , on Wednesday ,26/Nov/2008.
Hotels, Hospitals, were the targets of the offenders.
Mumbai is still burning.
The imperious Taj ,is on fire.
The hostages are mostly foreigners.
The common man ,is at risk, to cross the roads., to go to hospitals, to proceed to the office, to venture out to buy vegetables and grocery.
Children are groping in fear.
The big question in our mind is not ,What will happen tomorrow? ,but what will happen the next minute.
Today, Mumbai has woken up , from its disturbed sleep.
Tomorrow , it will resume its activities.
Can we call it stoicism ? or shall we term it helplessness.?
Life goes on.
“Men may come ,
Men may go,’
Mumbai goes on forever .
Mumbai can be affably addressed as “No boy”- no nonsense boy.
Reclining on my arm chair in my porch, I go back to the days of my childhood.
Half a century back, really so long, I cannot believe, I cannot assume, I shrivel, I recollect the day I got to school.
I was lead into my Kindergarten ,by Sister Denis .
The KG teacher, carried me aloft, and called me “Dolly.”
Sister Denis,introduced me to the class as Meena, my original name.My eyes got moist, as I bade a subdued farewell to my mom,who in turn wiped her eyes and walked out of the class.
I was a quiet girl, very reserved, and much caressed by my teacher.
I was good worker, a keen listener and had a strong memory.
These qualities are still predominant, and I was a prefect of my class right from KG to sixth form.
I was elected as the School Pupil leader,with thundering majority.
At home, I was a child ,who gave least botheration to my parents.
The domestic staff ,in my household ,simply adored me.
Now , my children have flown away from me, on pursuit of achievements and excellence.
My husband , tries to pull me into social activities and other worldly pursuits.
I dare not.
I wish to be my own self, away from the maddening crowd, unobtrusive, unknown, unfamiliar ,yet studious, serving society without much advertisement,spelling out simple, practical ,advice to whoever knocks my door.
I wake up from my reverie,as the telephone starts ringing, bringing me back to the mundane world.
Maldives ,a beautiful island country, is in constant fear.
The picturesque state,surrounded by sea on all sides, will be submerged by water 50 years ,from hence.
Maldivians are basically simple people , who know no other trade ,than fishing and tourism.
Settlement of the entire population in a neighbouring state , is not an easy avocation.
Leaving the country ,where you were born ,is extremely painful.
To exit from a familiar environment, from a practised occupation, from a cosy home,from known people,
from exalted position, from comfortable fortunes,and from assured income,pose a depressing deliverance.
Next, to locate a place ,for the entire population is exorbitantly difficult and informally not possible.
The government and the people gaze at the Ocean for a definite answer.
Man may err, may fail, may grope, but Nature will never let down her children.
Maldivians ,should not loose heart.
The great sea will win them a reward.
The stock market slipped as the rescue of Citi group became a back liner.
Aiding Citi is a bad precedent.
U.S. will need a bail out soon.
The nation will need several trillions to keep it afloat.
Where is the source?
How is it going to earn?
Many defaulted business will expect the Fed to help them to come out of the blue.
A retrograde effect is distributed.
Cancer ,is a deadly disease,which spreads fast, eats up every organ, renders the afflicted helpless., requires a harsh medication,subjects the patient to radiation and chemotherapy,reduces him to a bag of bones and he succumbs to death.
Bail out is a big plan , but the economy has melted too fast,surgery is not the requirement, amputation also has become unnecessary,as too many areas have been affected.
The crisis is ailing, as there is no solution available to settle the system.
The gala scenario of bail out has lost its sheen.
Meenas Poems 