The Youth And The Old Poem by sundaram chandrakalaadhar

the youth and the old-

o what a contrast in between!

the youth is unapologetically mindful

of every millimeter of its dress

for its match, crease, fitness, and what not,

craning and twisting its neck in front of the mirror

and straining every nerve to put up a decent show

everytime it steps out of the house!

the old cares the least for anything

and moves out shabbily unmindful of stature -

while the youth cares all for looks and joy

the old pines for the health of its soul

visiting whatever that is holy

and dwelling wherever it could smell peace!

while the temples are for the pleasures of youth

they are the holy rivers to cleanse the souls of the old.

the youth sprays the worthless ever with matching hearts

the old broods within itself submerging in the sparks of the past!

the youth, does it care for the future?

the old tunes its ears to the knocks of death.

the youth dares death at its cave

but the old, though wishes death,

is terribly afraid of even to listen its distant footfalls!



-s.chandra kalaadhar