Meenas PoemsLife is a travel
it is a marvel
could be a shrivel
anything on the level
a hype here with a sensitivity
a type there with a placidity
all call for a plausibility
that one makes out of life
spans some eighty more in strife
with words pointed like knife
insinuates a disharmony
with behaviour moderate
evolves 
a feel considerate
all depends on the way we go
so we reap that we sow.
I have lots to do today
not only today but every day.
Hope you have too
Is it one or two?
Tell me without a hide
Do not take me for a ride.
I am not able to hear you clear
Do not mumble, come out without fear.
Well, that be the weakness of all
a murmur and a grumble in call.
That be the design for all of us
Why do we go about with a fuss?
With so much to be done every day
why do we talk all day?
Talk leads to gossip in a way.
It becomes a slander in all ways.
The foul words catch fire
seize the entire
terrorism is born unknowingly
peace gets away unseemingly.
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I get a phone call every morn from a far away land across the seas I eagerly wait for the call moving nowhere as the caller speaks so loving and beautiful
Answering each of my questions with a grin and giggle his voice goes up and down like a song holding a frequency attuned to the replies.
He talks with an attitude mature listening keenly to my words responding appropriately to them with a melodious tone and cheer.
He could well understand my language never once he put a question forward I could make out very little of his answers which came out with a spontaneity straight.
Curious to know who it would be you would have by now started to deliberate let me reveal his identity in a way that you could comprehend and admire.
The caller being none other than my cute toddler just one and half years old learning to speak talks he in a language of his own which I, half a century and more, fail to decipher.
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The talk going on
just an empty talk on and on
a veiled talk in the front
an open attack in the back
that be the travel around
as they go up the road
with a strong wind
and come down the will
with the flow against them
these are the craziest people as seen
who talk nothing with sense
these are the crankiest fellows I know
who talk all lies in the upfront
these are the most cantankerous group all around
who make most by talking irreverent things .
Relying on them is but foolish
going by the words is idiocy
taking them up for revenge is derogatory
ignoring them then and there is prudence.
A habit of me might sound quixotic
with that I start my topic
might be it would look drastic
that of stop talking to people mostly
when they cross wantonly.
This quality is innate and inborn
right from the days of childhood dawn
all through my youth and middle age
gently travelling with me in a range
making me unpopular in an arrange.
I refrain not only from talking to them
but restrict from talking about them
that being my practice all through
with that I go about with a clue
minding my business without any hue.
Tell me now how do you feel about my topic
Is it as others feel quixotic?
or does it appear drastic?
To me it looks great and fantastic.
To you, I sense it is comic.
Conversations go on endlessly
with never-dying interest
What do they talk about?
with such rapture in and out
makes me wonder all throughout
as I remain an outcast
away from the normal cast
listening to what they say
as I feel given two ears in a way
shows that we have to extend 
the hearing
and restrict the talking
None pay heed to me
thinking I am a dummy
or more so a mummy
bereft of expression
and demanding impression.
So goes on the talking forever
ending up in a loud chatter
devolving into a noisy clatter
releasing by far nothing.
Early in the morn
it being an early dawn
with the silence all around
and a freshness in the ground
with no sign of human sound
only the barking of dogs in a bound
sitting out in the garden
a place to unload the burden
talking to none but to oneself
being a rare exercise by itself
which he does with ease
making him free from any tease
rejuvenating his memory well
keeping him agile in every cell.
None would like to follow
but would be a sure allow
for all who talk so 
without hurdles in the flow.
The walk and talk
gave a surprising shock
as they revolved round a block
a beautiful dock
that was under a lock
where people do not flock
being once a place that rocked
with fun and mock
but now it being a haunted stock
where we hear no knock
now very much silent as a dead cock
as its survival comes under the clock.
Talking with reason has been deserted.
Now talk for reason has been inserted.
The subtle difference goes in the hanging
letting all in way of balancing.
A curious feeling is holding many a talk
The desire to excel being the prime stalk
The intention to extract gets the follow.
The thought to win by gibberish scaling comes from the hollow.
A sudden piercing and an immediate tearing turn the tides.
As and when there occurs a stalemate the irrelevance takes over in stride
In the fashion that talks proceed and pull over through jaunts
focusing mainly on the necessity and of greatly the wants
the real essence of talk gets lost in the wilderness
as 
self deceit and self-esteem find an appearance
relaying the foundation of the most simplified communication.
Talking about a Great Man
years after his death
vouchsafed well for the man
remember his glorious life
is not full of roses blooming
as thorns many are found in a plant
that gives out flowers in abundance
Well talking long and short
alone will not go great in terms
as it was not his way of living
he demanding a performance best
and creditable befitting his credentials.
None think about it in real significance
but go on making merry by talking
conducting meets and get together
bringing out nothing in the end
just a meet and a forget
along comes in quick succession
the next meet and go ahead.
Meenas Poems 