Scented Four Walls Poem by Mehta Hasmukh Amathaal

Scented four walls
Friday,11th June 2021

Scented four walls of my room
always present me the blossom
they are not dead erection
but a witness to my soaring/thriving relation

they have witnessed me crying
repeated falls even after earnest trying
they have concealed the facts
and never showed the reaction

they are an actual history
witnessed my prayers to an almighty,
how madly I bow down!
and make my wishes known

people say it is a material possession
I consider it as sentimental relation
non-living things silently watch
and catch me wrong

I see in them the live contents
and present
not before the people
but struggle for self

If I have any intention of doing wrong
they shall not sing a song
rather stare at my behaviour
and grant no peace and honour either

Dr Hasmukh Mehta
D.Litt, Folt