By Kamlesh Tripathi
In the wardrobe of life,
For me it was always, a dress-up to the nines,
Where my intentions were noble,
Tongue a wee salty,
But my behaviour always upright.
And where amid the jungles of life,
Reside those robust egos of all kinds,
And where what matters is not the noble intentions of the tongue-tied,
But the crafty-slimy-sweet interpretations of the tongue that lies.
And while I moan and bemoan,
To the sad rhythm of life,
I also foxtrot,
At the dance floor of life,
While noble intentions are long-term,
Slimy-crafty and sweet tongue are short-term.
And upright behaviour has a fulcrum
And all in the anvil of a life-term.
But behaviour and noble intentions,
For what mattered today
Was crafty tongue and its interpretations.
For if you want to rise,
The gossips and tricks of life,
And let noble intentions and upright behaviour,
For in the world of today,
There is no respite,
From the chicanery of life,
To the dangers in disguise.
And while the crafty-sweet-slimy tongue,
clamours in glamour,
Noble intentions, salty tongue and upright behaviour,
Reap the long term honour.