Meenas PoemsThe mild thunder
the soft drizzle
the light breeze
give the day
a back up
The bird’s hum
The men”s talk
The animals shout
give the day
a start-up.
The rustle of leaves
the bustle of voices
the hustle of movements
give the day
a break up.
The still air
the dark night
the moon’s light
give the day
a close up.
That is the beginning
there be the ending
in a trial and error
day in and day out
goes the way out.
It is pleasant
the day is warm
with the shine decent
causing no harm
the breeze cheerful
passing through lively
the birds fly about
and the men move spiritedly
with the night comes darkness
and there arises a silence
with the owls hooting in the stillness
the day ends up with little reference.
It is Mother’s Day
a day which I never knew.
In our days all days
revolved round the mother
no special day for her
we were part of her
she taught us all
expected nothing from us in return
we did also never gave anything to her
the days were marked by love
affection was the main feature
while discipline and control got in stealthily
there was perfect equilibrium all through
that being so in a way
there was no time to celebrate Mother’s Day
Mothers were always there
if 
only we forget them
we should try to remember them
we never forgot their presence
so we never wished her on a particular day,
Every day is new
with the morn you are born
with the night you sleep
that be not eternal
The days are special for their goodness
each one having an attribution
that be of birthdays, anniversaries
independence and valentine.
The assumption that these days
carry an influence and joy
takes the cue wrong
being a belief not strong.
Could not all days be a celebration?
radiating mirth and joy
ruminating with kindness and love
sounds a tall claim anyhow.
All days propose a task
the completion releases an achievement
the attainment ushers a salvation
ending up in a culmination of attitudes
The day is long
with nothing to do
almost dry and warm’
with no rain
being very sultry and sombre
with no activity whatsoever
the breeze is not felt
with no birds flying out
every thing seems to be calm
as being a Sunday
the day of the week
when there be a holiday all over
where there is no bustle and hustle
only the inmates in their parlour
ating and munching something or other
with their eyes glued to the television
while the child watch the Disney land
the adults get themselves tuned to movies
that had the headlines
well that be for the day
as it also has to move away
and pass into oblivion all the w
ay.
The day with a peculiarity
not one with the day-to-day
very different from the daily
that being one of an event
might sound very odd and silly
but it being true and genuine
the wake up for the day
being very early before sunrise
when still there being a little darkness
with the sun seen nowhere
it is an experience by itself
having the early morn for yourself
with none to share the bliss
not even the birds being out
nor any sign of human movement
with the dogs after the vigil
sleeping pretty heavy in the porch
a delightful ecstasy it is
and having been alive for so long
this day becomes unusually important
with beautiful interpretation
that could be better felt than expressed. 
The crack I heard
made a sound so strange
making me to be on toes
not knowing from where it came
stood almost motionless for a time
while my thoughts made their own story ‘
that being a crash of the roof
a collapse that is coming down
while I being trapped in the ruins
with no help in the proximity
not even able to shout for help
as my voice got stifled in between
that be the end of me cried my soul
which had readied itself to fly
leaving my mortals under the roof
with none to claim it
as my imagination was building up
my reality came into existence
finding myself standing where I am
intact full of flesh and bone
nothing wrong has taken place
except a creaking sound from the iron gate
where the paper boy 
has thrown the news paper
with that begins the day of work
that is my routine all through the years
first in the morning going through the news
be it how many gadgets come up
with news getting flashed up all day and night
the paper in hand in the morning
has been my delight all my life
as you know habits die-hard,
The day dawns
with the chirp and chatter
from birds near .
The revenue going high
The living rose high
The spending also jacked up.
There being an extravagance on top
Spending and enjoying all the more
Thinking of that moment in the fore.
Setting aside the thought of day after.
Let it come says he louder
as today is the one that has to be lived
saying that in a mood exalted
he reminded me of the species
that think of the present in a treatise
living gaily and happily all 
throughout.
The day’s activities be it great or ordinary
takes one in a series of affectation extraordinary
that of unexpected calls in time not proper
that of interruptions at moments improper
gives a startling feel in a duration short
envisaging a criteria in a sort
have to go through them in a dumb spell
as if nothing amiss has happened in a tell
lest the day gets rolled in a disfavour
as the errands halt without a vigour.
then comes a fall back and stoppage
the day gets paralysed with an entourage
the day-to-day schedule getting deferred
with a salvation not found in the buffer.
Meenas Poems 