Que Sera Sera Poem by narayana aghalaya

WHATEVER WILL BE, WILL BE

kind of house arrest,
has been enforced, on the sly,
with none to protest;
as viruses, multiply,
their trade, even burglars, can't ply

vendors pulling hair,
pass time, chasing mosquitoes;
wise buyers don't dare;
but hide at home, kin in tow,
in misery, to wallow.

early-morning walks,
happen on figure of eight,
drawn with, help of chalk,
on terrace where space is tight;
one can't complain, that is, plight.

'while sun shines, make hay;
in lock-down, nowhere to go;
meditate.' they say.
for most, no work means no dough;
on table, food does 'no show'.

in this, no-control,
fairy tale, of flattened curve, **
spin doctors, have role;
to pass the moment, it serves;
to tell the truth, none has nerve;