Taken For Granted

And it comes again!
Is it just a fit, paranoia?
Maybe it’s too sturdy to be illusionary!

Like the imminent air,
Used whenever they need.
Wood for the girl who abodes a forest,
Oil to the Middle East,
A bunch of morons ignore the utility and toy,
With the gems that elude the deprived.
I am that untoward who is taken for granted.

A door mat at least knows,
That mud is his destined lover,
But the feeble hen doesn’t,
That her most precious eggs one day,
Would be snatched away from her bosom,
For satisfying the lust of her master,
Nothing less than backstabbing!
A benign nature and generosity is at fault.

And if the scorpions can’t change their instincts,
Of stinging venom into the human who saves it,
How can I, a human be expected to curtail,
Those bloody features of his!

So does this leave me to a substantial grounding?
At least sometime for the ox to graze,
Before the cruel farmer gropes it again!
The pitiful creature has no choice but to submit.

If this is what fate has in store!
Then he’ll never be forsaken till the last breath,
But Nature settles all the scores,
Through a turtle like evolution over the ages,
Some respite for the wayside sacrament.

And this is what they:
Hen, ox, wood, oil and human hang in for,
Having their solitary possession, Hope!
Keeping which they burn in the lap of time.

What Did I Get Out Of It....???

A little favor, five rupees of balance,
For a cause never mine!
What did I get out of it?

Skipping a meal, bunking for a lunch,
A furious mom,
Risking your identity, and your equanimity,
To have a frowning brother,
For a cause never mine!
What did I get out of it?

Two hundred bucks, an unforgiving cop,
Two months of uncertainty on wheels,
Because of a cause never mine!
What did I get out of it?

Half an hour on the phone,
For merely an hour of bliss,
Deeper into the mud,
For a cause now mine!
What did I get out of it?

Awake through the night,
For just tem minutes of ecstasy,
They never came,
A depressed yet hopeful heart,
Now trying to get something out!

Spoiling the annual carnival,
Misallocation of space,
A performance next to nothing,
To get something out of nothing!

Hours at networking,
Working in an alien terrain,
Bluffing the handful constants,
Discussing the cause not mine!
What did I get out of it?

Supposed to be my life! Compromising with it,
For a constant to be, now changing the course,
For the cause is now achieved,
By me but not for my self!
What did I get out of it?

A ton of currency,
Consoling through the night!
Ignoring a cause that’s mine!
Ignoring the cause that’s mine,
And achieving the cause never meant to be mine!
What did I get out of it?

The answer is hard to find!
Apart from a friend’s smile,
Momentary overwhelmed ness,
And a pretentious behavior to my own self!

Is this what I wanted?
Six months of anxiety all at a stretch!
Given a status for a daily compromise with it!
Curtailment of instincts for being mislead,
Bearing the blows,
For a cause and people now both not mine!
Did I get something?

I became a table, and mediated the cause,
Even became a thorn in the flesh!
Was it innocence that didn’t let me see the inevitable?
Or realize the unimaginable!
But I did all that, or something made me do it?
Nevertheless what did I get out of it?

Was this a rehearsal of selflessness?
Has to be it!
In crude terms, I was will fully exploited!
Was I trying to buy someone in repercussion?
I don’t know!

But it’s sometimes better,
To curtail those features of your blood,
For their serene restoration in future!

I guess that illusionary contentment,
That I believed I had,
Wasn’t good enough to last my recovery,
But what I gained out of the misadventure,
Was an Adventure!
And I am sunk and flummoxed again!

The Deepest Bucket

How sultry and reprehensible is my façade!
Precarious both in the light and obscurity,
The fauna gropes has groped mt physical being,
The exploiting ages led me to thsi predicament.

And this desert was soaked for the first time,
When I fell amidst a bunch of few,
And tasted the nectar that revived,
The life in me: the extinct exuberance.

I should have known,
It was just a flood,
That flowed over from the adjacent plain,
Embracing my arid heart,
And the Unforgiving sun Would boil away the wet,
And I’d be hurt more than what I gained.

But the cracks left behind,
Cuddled traces of the past,
A soothing remnant else was a drought.
But the rolling stone gathers no moss!

It’s better to let a percentage sink,
And tap the fluid to an oasis.
The desert still stays! What saves now is,
The depth that mellows a frantic pause

My desiccated self calls for the same,
One solitary drizzle from the heavens,
For me to accumulate in a cherished lake,
That fills my burrows, heals my lesions.

My mate through oblivion,
The deepest bucket so to say,
That holds my cathartic vestiges.
But let not the air dissolve the moist,
Else this desolate tract will forever stay.