Disoriented is the mind after a shock.
Disenchanted is the soul as it experiences a block.
Disheartened is the heart as it hits the rock.
Disturbed is the thought as it is subjected to a mock.
Disintegrated becomes the idealism as it stumbles into a deadlock.
Dishevelled is the hair as the curls fall in locks.
Disfigured is the face as hurdles besiege it in a flock.
Dislocated is the disc as hurried movements enforce a knock.
Distraught is the being as every other thing takes it to an extreme stock.
Tag: Experience
It is an early morning wake up
going over a week in a roll up
starting with deliberations all the way up
drenching in deep thoughts as a wrap up
causing a disturbance in the follow-up
while the provocations mount up
the eyelids refuse to shut up
the tears come down in a shoot up
rendering an excitement in a round-up
an excitement not of happiness in a close up
but of anguish in a trial up
sounding an alarm of sensational fear as a lap up
creating a significant malady to the cheer up
dissipating a trend of uneasiness in the mop up
releasing an unusual apprehensiveness in the back up
evoking a scene of pathetic denominations in the fall up
turning the rest of the day into a dull ambiguity in the line up
thus moves on the remaining hours in the pack up.
Categories
The World Shuts Down
It is only two days more.
The world would be no more.
So goes the talk all the more.
Sending signals of warning more and more.
Creating a terrible fear to the core.
Nothing is to be expected for sure.
Nothing would happen for sure.
So say all with a belief sure.
Dispelling the gravity with an assure.
Assuaging the feelings with a grace ever.
Which almanac says so?
It is the Mayan calendar that tells so.
Would that be so?
Ask everyone with a sigh in a flow.
It is a definite no say the scientists with a glow.
Everything ended up in a blank.
There was none to bank.
The heart sank.
All issues drew a blank.
Nothing was above rank.
The mind sank.
Most experiences pointed to blank.
They lay above the tank.
The emotions sank.
Part of life was blank.
It exceeded the clank.
The hope sank.
Little cries imposed a blank.
The weeps overwhelmed the crank.
Death sank.
Lost is days of youth.
Lost is days of mirth.
Lost is days of joy.
Lost is days of toy.
Lost is days of evolution.
Lost is days of the revolution.
Lost is days of enthusiasm.
Lost is days of experiences awesome.
Lost is days of adaptability.
Lost is days of flexibility.
Lost is days of attraction.
Lost is days of distractions.
Lost is days and years.
As we lose ourselves in tears.
Wading through the rubbish plastic.
Skipping over the garbage drastic.
Sneezing frequently over the smell caustic.
Negotiating round the corner as a rustic.
Reached the destination in a manner stoic.
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.
Up and down we go
What for we do not know?
Here and there we see
What for we do not know?
Right and left we move
What for we do not know?
Gain and loss we make
What for we do not know?
Earn and spend we do
What for we do not know?
Good and bad we commit
What for we do not know?
Love and hate we relate
What for we do not know?
Soft and sharp we speak
What for we do no know?
Kind and cruel we pose
What for we do not know?
Smile and weep we react
What for we do not know?
Happy and sad we be
What for we do not know?
Live and 
die we interpret
What for we do not know?
It is difficult to forget,
Yet we have to.
It is difficult to forget,
If we have strong memory.
It is difficult to forget,
If the incidents hurt us.
memories linger,
the mind recollects,
anger rises up,
the heart thumps,
the nose twitters,
the eyes flutter,
the mouth quivers,
the face reddens,
the body gets flared up,
Alas! it is difficult to forget,
But we have to.
Years ago children loved school,
it was another home to them,
Learning was never cumbersome,
It rendered a development wholesome.
Children learnt with ease,
Numbers were easily mastered,
Letters were finely read,
Everything went directly to the head.
Learning was both study and play,
Simple practices enabled counting
Carry over was established in adding,
Take away was used in subtracting.
Language became a felicitous facility,
Grammar opened up the intricacies,
Usage delivered the delicacies,
Communication became relevancies.
It was an enjoyable experience,
The teacher and taught worked together,
There was no pressure or ill feeling rather,
It was a perfect harmony altogether.
Meenas Poems 