My poetry – (1)


We have a way of life
in which we have to behave in such and such a way
that we continue to perform
in the ways that are only the accepted
and don’t commit the unaccepted.

We wake up
walk up to our destinies
create our own routines
imitate mate
love and allow things to happen
in a manner that no one is startled
to immediate attention.

Peace, therefore, lies in our conformity
to the things that are accepted.

Discourses disclose so many values
Customs continue to redeem old faiths.

Thinking is an odd thing
Begging to differ breeds despair and often contempt.

Property rites are performed all along the days
Nights are reserved for disclosures
and journeys into old myths.

Winning becomes a habit when the deeds are done
in conformity.

Cunning is a common value
The human face adopts the masks with acrid alacrity
Business reason is the only reason that
prevails in the whole business of life.

Rest is assured
when the quest for truth doesn’t go
beyond the doorsteps of the high-tech ashrams
wherein the art of living is so matter-of-factly dealt with.

Living made so simple now-a-days
every thing is boiled down to one simple question
how wealthy one lived
and not how well one lived.

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