Portability Poem by Aniruddha Pathak

Amidst things that with men endure,
Get stuck as death for life, and now
Portable half truths if not pure,
That gullible go for somehow.

Not just mobile numbers for mobile,
Portable goes automobile,
Those insured and long as the Nile,
All, part be of a portable pile.

Man once mindful nigh to image.
But heedful of lucky number,
Bears loads of digital luggage,
A porter that loves to lumber!

Devoted he ere lived to names for life,
Which, he seems more now to numbers,
Un-portable his portly wife,
Plus politicians, pricey plumbers!

The royalty once had it all,
Save loyalty so hard to lift,
For figures' fidelity we now fall,
Yet, all we gather's flotsam set adrift.

And we in this land live in hope,
On promises like carrots shown,
But a hangman's hope's no long rope,
Like a dog we chew on same bone—
And the same number portable
The digital age's new label!
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This piece was when re-looked in 2015, the last stanza was added. Mobile portability is still largely in name.
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Happenings | 09.02.11 |