Nice to read.
Nice to write.
Nice to play.
Nice to eat.
Nice to cry.
Nice to laugh.
Nice to walk.
Nice to sleep.
Am I being frivolous?
Well, that is what we do in tremendous
might be a difference
some do them more
some do them less
depends on the individual
that be the way to live
with other ablutions
The duties I forget
the compulsive ones most
that being the milk on the stove
it is the day to day routine
I sit reading through with concentration
or gazing through the window more concentrated
while the music in the background plays rhapsodically
the milk boils and boils many a time
I sit unmoved in my place lost in myself
the burnt smell emanates slowly
that is the alert generally cautions me
I rush to see my milk on the stove
there is no milk, not even a drop
the milk pan almost charred lies burnt
this is not on one or two occasions
but being throughout my life with few exceptions
I look up the attic straining my neck
see milk pans in a row shapeless and black
the milk bill escalates two folds and three folds
I stand answerable to my husband
who frowns at me but lets me off with that alone
To read what I write
is but a terrible bite
as I write with a passion
nothing to do with fashion
pour my thoughts in speed
they are in verse think I indeed!
what they are to others I know not?
as I write for me alone all throughout
this way I go about in my work
performing for my satisfaction alone
a very different personality in tone
stand I very much apart from the normal
withdrawn from the world but very formal
Do I look a strange creäture to you?
Well, that is me who remains always true.
The allegations at an age
the criticism at a period
the attack at a time
when the spirits are down
cause a havoc unbearable.
Never have seen smooth sail
Never have experienced a flow
Never have heard a kind word
all through the days hay and old.
The scathe and scorn in volumes
scrap the heart of its tenderness
the sore is so ulcerative
it bleeds internally copiously.
The haemorrhage accounts for a stumble
a withdrawal from the kith and kin
might be also from the child too
as it clogs and tarnishes the feel.
The words pop out with animation
laugh and talk with cheer
console with a smothering rhythm
care with cordial solicitation.
The regular chores wherever you may be
be it in your home town or abroad
seem to be the same all throughout.
Amused I find myself when people ask
how you spend time over board?
straightening up I thinks for a while.
Nothing pretty different for me anywhere
with the routine behind you
reading, writing and cooking.
With the roof over the head as it should be
with a comfortable working space
I feel no difference wherever it be.
Shopping has always been not my way of life
with a few wants and desire
find great comfort at home with my companions.
Companions, you might wonder who could they be?
there be not life around but lively things across
throwing light on topics of interests that carry me on.
After giving out so much I ponder
why they be so inquisitive on my day-to-day work?
as I am a very ordinary person known not by many.
I settle down with ease quiet looking around
they be asking all these for the sake of talking
a time pass for them not for anything serious as I think.
The post that calls your attention
that needs your retention
is indeed an attraction
that makes one read and read
with an interest indeed
advancing a fine lead .
It takes you along the ride
with a gentle tickle on the stride
where thee is nothing to hide
hide it may be so subtle
that not causes a hustle
but puts you through the bustle.
In goes the lively deal
with a thrilling feel
extending a warm heal
thereby they bring out an episode
beautifully narrated within the board
fairly a strong and powerful expression on load.
That be the grip the read tends
allowing a mirth in the trend
goes so all through the bend
holding the reader’s attention in rapt
as he in the course adapts
forgetting himself in the lovely pact.
Reading fast through the novel
she skipped pages
that of description
telling about the places
delving deep into the characteristics
not only of its physical features
but also of its cultural activities.
The rushing up of the pages
would take her to the story part
but the other information
would be let astray
The beauty of the novel
lies not in its story content alone
but also on the language most
as well as the presentation in tact
wherein comes the portrayal superior
and the characterisation intrinsic
that get entwined with the plot in a seam
and the theme gets elaborated with frills
with a narration and unravelling lend a binding
which go to keep the reader’s involvement
and takes him across in a tide far and near
great and pleasant in a manner perfect.