SOCIETAL DISGUISE
                          - P. Malathy
A wishful wait gave way
For a rustic whistle wildly gushed,
but mildly muttered without noise,
At the sight of the bus,
Speeding towards the rush.
My whistling attempt had gone vain
Leaving my voice box with a strange pain.
However, my widened scope
of reaching home soon
during the scorching noon,
seemed a refreshing boon.
Whistling is a taboo for women
So, it was rehearsed and relished
Without waking the world
In which I live as it could
weaken my social image.
A hypocritical hiding of true face
Plays part of professionalism
Many a times with a stereotyped
Practice and praise by the
Poor world with a plastic smile.