Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar Poems

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My transfer brought her to my lip.
Her transfer wrought me a slip.
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Kovelon, in love and arts an acumen,
Had as consort, Kannakhi of his commune,
Won as beloved, Madhavi, a courtesan,
And left her, to return to pavilion.
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Thirty thousand people have lost
Their life in Gujerat earth quake.
Was fate-line bad in all those hands?
Were, in the horoscopes of all those,
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A passionate servant served his Master,
Attending his needs no less than anyone,
And for him, fought the Eagle in the battle,
But by the Master was overthrown ill,
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You stood for Tamil and for Tamils.
You did well for them a long while.
In you runs Tamil blood, not an Aryan’s.
You are who made Tamil to its throne.
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Conscious that I am ignorant
Where I am not held to be so,
If I feel shy to confess it
It means I don’t intend to learn.
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Men who grade a woman
For her caliber,
Are influenced by
Her sexual appeal too.
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To feel being ignored
Is the worst suffering.
To counter it is
To feel being spared.
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Better be a beggar elsewhere
Than being a burden to the son.
The humiliation of a stranger
Hurts you not as your son’s does.
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I bought the love of my children
With my toils and sacrifices.
I beg their love in my last stage
By keeping them in good humour..
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