Introspectrum I have come full circle And I don’t see colour now I look out through the window It is a colourless world. Cars pass by, labourers work Sarees or shirts, either check or plain Bricks or cement or iron rods All there, but there is no colour. The same bricks or the same shirts When come in a picture or a painting Acquire tantalizing hues Stirring feelings sensational. The tyranny of TVisuals The chicanery of Sunday mags The depravity of fashion scene We are all colour-victims. [081198] Mutation I was so fond of sweets And now it’s the opposite Why does the taste change And how does it happen? If taste-buds are the same And dishes the same old So, what was favourite Why fails to appetise? What we hear see or smell Or touch does not change Over a period of time Why the taste keeps varying? In view of its value For upkeep of the body Perhaps the food affair Is little complicated. The mind must foreplay The eyes must agree And the mouth consent For full enjoyment. Or taste remains the same And we as persons change Our likings and leanings Get distilled with age? [Sat-080901]