Pages

Friday, June 24, 2011

Life= monotony, and hope.

It was an evening, lazy and monotonous,
Among the green bushy patches,
I strolled in my steady pace,
I watched the dogs lazing,
and the cows that were mooing constantly. 

Trees were still,
Not a leaf moved an inch.
It seemed that trees were taking a nap, 
I couldn't feel the wind,
Nothing was unusual.

Babies in their respective prams, 
and their maids dutifully carried them,
Some seemed careful about the baby,
but the rest, just got an excuse to chit-chat and relax.
It was mundane.

Sky was clear blue. 
Despite of blue being my fav color,
Nothing seemed exciting about it.
Sun was setting,
While girls were walking back to their home.

Some lovers strolled on the path,
and some hid among bushes,
Some who were newly coupled, walked hand-in-hand,
Rest-fought, abused and talked of break-up.
One could understand.
It was obvious.

Frogs jumped on the path,
and lizards swirled on the trunk of the tree,
chameleons changed their color from blue to green,
And squirrels, ran without any reason.
It was life.

And I just strolled for a while,
and returned back home,
It happens to me everyday,
And this is life.

There's a meaning in mundaneness,
You just have to find it.

5 comments:

suvaiba said...

hey RITIKA ,
nyc poem n more dan dat itz a very picturesque discription...!!
the last 2 lyns r awsum
keep ryting..~
DASVADANIYA
suvaiba..!!

Pranavam Ravikumar said...

Very nice. I enjoyed the thoughts, that was very nicely you represented through your lines too. all the best. Have a nice day!

♪♪Happy Go Lucky♪♪ said...

**There's a meaning in mundaneness,
You just have to find it.**
So true!!
Loved it :)

Blasphemous Aesthete said...

And yet, I don't see much meaning in the mundane, that is why I search for something that I don't know. :)


Cheers,
Blasphemous Aesthete

Jack said...

Ritika,

Read 3 pending posts. Left comments on other 2 also.

It is upto us how we look at anything. Mundane or Otherwise. One can observe and find reasons behind scurrying of squirrels or chameleons changing colours. Everything conveys something or the other to us but we do not see it as we consider these to be there everyday.

Both poems are nicely composed.

Take care