Meenas PoemsGetting into the pavilion
where they had gathered million
talks about billions
hitting beyond trillions
rant the air with shouts and cries
while calls on the stock markets
and claims on the housing
have caught the fire
the thought about money
has reached the sky
where hundreds and thousands
have no say in the context
as the speculation mounts up
the trade volume rises up
indicating a trend lively
that economy has become robust.
The economy is building up
say all with the hep
How do they build the economy?
Is it any thing of the bonhomie.
Being a citizen of the world
where financials center around gold
which is marked by a rise and fall
knowing not from where it takes the call
it has a dictatorial sway over
with others taking the cover
be it commodities and stocks
if happen to move should unlock
the big one that hangs over gold
which stretches
others to a freeze and cold
precipitating the inflation to an extent
where people have to shy away with less intent
restricting their buy to a bare necessity
if that be there with an ingenuity
then the economy would shoot up to a level
by which the countries down could revel
and get confined to progress and prosperity
Things untouched are lying there for forty years.
Utensils unused are kept there for forty years.
Jewels not adorned are placed there for forty years.
Furniture not utilised are piled there for forty years.
Dress unworn are arranged there for forty years.
The lady with all these was in her twentieth year then.
She has no intentions to use them any more
She had the desire but circumstances did not allow
They are there for forty years with dust and rust.
That is how things go unattended and lie as dead.
Money invested turns into wasteful expenditure
How much amount of money thus has been locked?
The community to which she belongs demand even now
They keep them secure locked in a room.
They say it is for the future
Does there is any future after sixty years?
They keep on doing so with added fervour.
knowing not they are killing the economy .
it is a long road to freedom with a winding steep and high.
The line fallaciously presents the status of freedom
which we are experiencing with difficulty heaving a sigh
and these famous words haunt me and keep ringing in my ear drum,
Freedom from colonisation has been there for some time.
Freedom from the own government has been ever doubtful.
Freeing from the politicians has become a strenuous mime
as they go on in spree of bewildering the masses in full.
Liberalising the economy from the regulatory system 
has not been implemented with prudential norms
making it an infringement and a backlog to the wisdom
pulling the economy to a precarious condition and out of form.
Making the people really free has not taken prominence
as the leaders are apprehensive of their security
feeling that absolute independence would grant an eminence
as the people would attain a stature causing an indignity.
Much has been penned and talked about in length
to decipher a design to promulugate a rule
wherein the people would find their real strength
and prove their mettle irrespective of being fooled.
Rich and opulent they move.
Rich and dashing they ride.
Rich and grand they live.
Rich and imperious they pose.
Yes, they are stinking rich.
Stinking rich is an idiom different.
An epithet that makes one wonder.
A phrase that resembles an oxymoron.
Altogether a coinage that rings curiosity.
Yes, the phrase smells wrong
Getting into the formation reveals many more.
Rich are termed as dirty with derision.
They are condemned as rotten with hate.
They are shunned as filthy with scorn.
Yes, the terminology sounds right.
The super rich is a euphemism many vouchsafe.
They have bought out their economy analysts deliver
They could afford their own exosphere of luxury stores.
Could not they afford tropospherical taxes?
Yes, it appears weird to witness this breakaway.
It is their hard earning a voice calls.
It is certainly so we nod.
It is not envy or greed that underlines.
It is the thought of society that urges.
Yes, it is a feeling that brings a nostalgia.
Crisis is seen all over.
Economy has tossed over
Culture has been swept over.
Ethics is not to be found all over.
Unruliness exists all over.
Illegality is rampant all over.
Violence spreads all over.
Filthy rich abound all over.
Powerful rule ruthlessly all over.
Righteous suffer miserably all over.
Yet the world revolves over .
As the crisis boils over.
It was an exchange,
Neither dealing with currency in a range.
Nor involving a
barter all the same.
It was an exchange,
Away from the economy in a range,
Far away from the mundane all the same.
It was an exchange.
Across the deep blue ocean in a range,
Covering thousands of kilometers all the same.
It was an exchange,
Where age did not come into the range,
Where affection stood above all the same.
It was an exchange ,
Where the grandson poured out his thoughts in a range,
Where the grandmother listened mesmerised all the same.
Then it is not an exchange,
You might blindly say in a range,
Yet it was sharing of feelings in a manner strange.
It is a scenario of dwindling,
Dwindle goes the economy,
Down goes the jobs,
Dwindle trips the gold,
Down trips the silver,
Dwindle falls the oil.
Down falls the gas,
Dwindle slips the Dollar,
Down slips the Euro.
So far to the materialistic.
A scenario of dwindling furthermore.
Dwindle sinks the heart,
Down sinks the spirit,
Dwindle presses the pain,
Down presses the train,
Dwindle folds the fear,
Down folds the rear,
Dwindle forces a mishap,
Down forces an entrap.
So much to the expressionistic
Earthquakes have shattered the land,
Tsunami has devastated the sand
Economy has bewildered the band,
Demoralizing and disorienting all in hand.
Dollar and Pound go down the crack
Yen and Yuan slip into the back,
Euro and Rupee fold into a rack,
All other currency follow the track.
World wide Economy is in a fearful limbo,
People everywhere are exposed to a violent tornado,
Countries are amidst a crusading crescendo,
Falling into broken pieces without much ado.
It is metals in a limelight hue,
Gold is shining in a yellow brew,
Silver rising in a brandished true,
All other metals animate the cue.
Predictions go
Gold will clamber to $2000 by December 2011,
Silver will shoot up to $100 by 2011 closure,
Gold and Silver will go to the museums as treasure,
Where they will remain as art pieces just for pleasure.
Globalisation has a great significance,
Which has impressed with deference
To a terrible turn down of difference,
In the fields of economic reference,
Evolving a voluminous grievance.
The concept is a latest addition,
To the already piquant rendition,
Of trade and commerce transaction,
Meriting an upsurge in the progression,
Of gain and profit all in an illusion.
The lead aimed at outsourcing jobs,
Relying on cheap labour throbs,
Projecting a high revenue snobs,
Working on unnatural robs,
Resolving to an irrelevant sops.
The expected predicaments have misfired,
The established economy has inspired,
As a rational and principle discipline is required,
To condemn the upstart ambiguity acquired ,
In the form of globalisation that is most admired.
Well ,let us switch to the olden theory,
Of barter system though weary,
Confirms a progress not too dreary,
Accepting the reality in a cheery,
Promoting an entire prosperity.
Meenas Poems 