Only hype… no icon

It makes me squint

When someone

Scroll, open and click

To wish me my days

Of birth or marriage.

I don’t relish when

Temporarily hatched

Words in sugar-coated

Tongue to greet

Happy birth day or anniversary.

In regimented timelines

I don’t need to search

rustic delight for my existence

Now I have crossed sixty and

I don’t want to understand

the vocabulary

Of my life in any ones’ often

failed weightless handshakes

Or in plastic smiles.

Nor I don’t want to take

the trouble to

filter my eyes to

Understand the

Shadows of inside

Silence and affection.

I never wanted to cloud

My birth and marriage days

With costumes in some one’s

Smoky words.

It is always personal and private to me.

Contrary I am on the lookout for

lessons, tests and values.

I believe in god’s wishes and blessings

I don’t reserve a single particular day

In my life’s calendar as special.

Life is a human laundry and everyday

Dirt is cleaned and wrinkles are ironed

With true happiness, blessings and contentment.

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