I went to the supermarket today, to get some food,
Gathering all the gyaan, from my father, I stood
At the Vegetable counter, I saw a sad scene,
There was hardly any stock, many racks were clean.
Of the little I found, ’twas a pitiful sight,
The tomatoes were wounded, the carrots were white,
The potatoes were wrinkled, the cucumbers were sapped,
Looked like the beans, were far too ripe.
What more do I see, even the fruits are dejected,
The worms had mangoes, as the Maazas were protected,
The grapes looked sad, the bananas had holes,
Could it be the beetles, had drilled their cozy homes?
While I was walking back, with my empty Shoulder Bag,
I head some noise, felt like it came from the rag,
From under it there, I heard silent screams,
The rotten Fruits and Veggies were bleeding on their seams.
I stood helpless, while I walked to the Door,
Noticed how they were treated, strewn on the floor,
Seemed like recession, had hit these poor things,
Or were they angry sales girls, who cared for nothing?