The Populous Pain.
Infancy is not in anyone’s itinerary ;
It forms part of the mothers’ manual.
Childhood is not a cake walk for all.
For many, it is a burden on the mother’s arms;
Considerate dads are a mothers’ blessing.
Prams and tricycles are not on each one’s agenda.
From cloth- made cradles to mats without pillows,
The greater part of the journey is a makeshift meet.
Adolescence is always an antagonistic exit
With anti virus monitoring, all through the way.
Drop outs of school are drugged out, in a carcass disposal schedule.
What one wants to eat, ever remains a want for many.
There is a crowd everywhere, in malls, temples and bars,
On all the busy roads, on all that rolls on them,
Not bothering about the pressure of the bodies.
Types of body odour tease one
another in very high frequencies.
The tough travel during the day, is only to buy a ticket for the night
For a kind of sleep, between nightmares and nervous wake ups.
From suckling sessions to serial sinning what has been absorbed
Is more as nutrients of negatives of winners and runners up.
The mothers’ milk has no happy returns for the donor.
Instead, what makes the womb regret
its natal navigation, is
Its abuse as a trash bag, for carrying a heap of shame to be disowned.
P.Chandrasekaran.
