The Grey Routine Poem by Aniruddha Pathak

Dawn dawns, I see the same faces
Talking the same tame talk at walk,
Wearing Velcro-ed shoes sans laces,
Vintage shirts, shorts of same old stock,
Sweat races, footwear grimaces,
Measured gaits, unhurried paces,

And all thru lunch there's no new breeze,
They know, life's canvas is on fade,
But yawn and stretch well-rested bodies,
Life's stuck and doldrums stare ahead,
But tired bones welcome relaxed ease,
At tea they brood on last decade.

Comes eve, leisurely stroll nearby
On errands with a bag in hand—
For day's supply of odds to buy,
Back home by dark with a sad sigh—
Grey routine of grey heads, and bland,
Bare if matches with urban land.

Quiet supper, the two ripe souls
Reflect on life lean of new goals,
TV to induce yawns off screen,
And day ends as began— so lean,
Dreamless life filled with glaring holes,
One more dawn dawns, same tired routine.
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Musings | 08.07.11 |