Saturday, October 01, 2011

99.The Coin

A rupee coin started rolling

From power corridors in Delhi

To my humble thatched hut

On the edge of a forlorn forest.

 

Hurtling on rough surfaces,

Passing through soiled hands,

Crossing hurdles and barriers,

The coin finally discovered me.

 

It was much smaller now,

Too small to secure in palm,

Too small to secure at all,

Too tiny to tackle my woes.

 

Give me just what you can,

But I want it full and fair,

Why should anyone try and nibble

At what is only mine to eat?

 

(already published in Chill Maadi, an e-magazine published from Manipal)

4 comments:

Kalyan said...

lovely lines...nicely crafted words!

Keats The Sunshine Girl said...

Give it untainted. Everyone deserves a good life. Lovely poem.

Please contact me via email as I have a few questions. Thanks.

Indrani said...

:)))
Good one Onkar.

Ruprekha said...

Beautifully composed lines!