The Motel.

   The    Motel. ( Modelled on inns, with a modern tinge).

The  politicised   Agnostic  platform

Throbs   with   debates   and wranglers

Full  throated    public  harangues,     

The  acoustics   tremble  of  trepidation .

Here, liveried worker in the motel

Meticulously  holds  the    cups  and dishes

For  there,  ekes  out   a   precarious

Living,   sustains    his   meagre  earning job.

There is also  the  modernised   maid

 Uplifted   hair, a  mobile  tucked up

In  her sari, every now  and then

Giving   instructions  to her  daughter.

It is  the doormat she shrugs gently

While  her new  broom   touches  the floor,

The  coloured  mat can   stand three  weeks

Before  it  craves for  washing in the bucket,

Tangibly   by   the  entrance    a  cat, a  puppy

Grimace   at  the  passes by. Hungry  visitors

throng   in , a  Mahatma  Gandhi,  Nehru

and   Mother   Teresa   on the wall  bless  the motel.