Even if you failed me in mathematics; giving me the lowest marks in the entire school; It still wouldn’t hurt me at all,
Even if you failed me while clambering the mountain slopes; making me stumble on the very first step itself; It still wouldn’t hurt me at all Even if you failed me while talking to colleagues; stuttering miserably on every word I spoke; It still wouldn’t
hurt me at all,
Even if you failed me in Business; making me incur losses worth millions of rupees; It still wouldn’t hurt me at all,
Even if you failed me in making my food; wherein all I managed to prepare was sooty charcoal from the fields laden with infinite vegetables; It still wouldn’t hurt me at all,
Even if you failed me in building a house of my own; with all bricks hurtling down towards me before I laid them; It still wouldn’t hurt me at all,
Even if you failed me in finding the most precious of my gifts; with the entire team of detectives I hired simply unable to trace them; It still wouldn’t hurt me at all,
Even if you failed me in the battlefield; with a river of blood diffusing rampantly from my skin; It still wouldn’t hurt me at all,
Even if you failed me while I was swimming; drowning me uncouthly for marathon hours before I reached the surface; It still wouldn’t hurt me at all,
Even if you failed me while leaping from the sky; with the strings of my parachute failing to unwind; and the bones of my body shattering into a million pieces; It
still wouldn’t hurt me at all,
Even if you failed me in my flirtatious activities; with scores of girls on the street ridiculing me; when infact I desperately wanted their friendship; It still wouldn’t
hurt me at all,
Even if you failed me in front of my parents; with them condemning my work as a lazy tribute to the soil; It still wouldn’t hurt me at all,
Even if you failed me at reaching office early everyday; with my tyre getting punctured midway although I started hours before time; It still wouldn’t hurt me at all,
Even if you failed me at snapping photographs; with people thrashing me black and blue for portraying them as decayed fruits; It still wouldn’t hurt me at all,
Even if you failed me at swallowing medicines; with every attempt of mine to gulp resulting in disastrously puking out the same; It still wouldn’t hurt me at all,
Even if you failed me in procuring my livelihood; with every attempt of mine to earn finding me placed in the beggars seat; It still wouldn’t hurt me at all,
Even if you failed me in wearing my own clothes; with my shirt inevitably getting torn the instant I tried to fit it over my shoulders; It still wouldn’t hurt me at all,
Even if you failed me while sleeping; jolting me off from my slumber every second with an armory of horrifying dreams; It still wouldn't hurt me at all,
Even if you failed me in all quarters of life; making me despicably succumb and lick raw mud; It still wouldn’t hurt me at all,
And as I told you O! lord I wouldn’t mind it the least if you snatched away everything from me; failed me horrendously in every sphere of life; but please see to it that I kept writing poetry till the time I relinquished my last breath; make me the king of
poetry
16. BEFORE
Before the pinnacle of mount Everest; there was a plethora of barricades to be confronted,
Before plummeting down to the bottom of the fathomless ocean; one had to face a battalion of wild sharks,
Before winning the coveted title of wrestling champion; there was the arduous endeavor of toning a jugglery of muscle,
Before harnessing the art of devouring glass; one had to learn to incessantly consume obdurate food,
Before swimming against choppy waters of the perennial river; one had to acqurie skills of floating in the shallow pool,
Before adroitly sketching articulate forms of scenic beauty; one had to know the art of blending color,
Before reciting mesmerizing notes of melodious music; one had to aware of the cadence of sound,
Before running at swashbuckling speeds in torrential showers of rain; one had to assimilate the vigor to walk,
Before tumultuously bursting into fits of sporadic laughter; one should know how to smile,
Before constructing the grandiloquent Taj Mahal of juxtaposed brick; one must have the skill to build a compact wall,
Before driving a high powered bike through the mountain roads; it was indispensable to posses the prowess of synchronized balance,
Before sculpturing ornate statues to scented wax; one should incorporate the technique of molding clay,
Before beheading a person in war with pugnacious swishes of the scepter; one must have the profound courage to hold one,
Before gliding down the picturesque valley strapped to parachute strings; one should master the ingredients of adventure,
Before encountering the ominous panther head on; one must develop a compassion for the animate beast,
Before gulping down pints of frozen water; one should savor the taste of Luke warm milk,
Before witnessing stupendous parables of jubilation; one must trespass through the tyranny of sorrow,
Before sleeping blissfully on a mattress of silken gold; one should inevitably perspire under the blistering heat of the sun,
Before transiting to realms of uninvited old age; one must experience the exuberance of resplendent youth,
Before dancing in the aisles of passionate romance; one should thoroughly mature in responsibility,
And before the commencing the activities of each day; one must indispensably worship the deity he believes in; praying for celestial solace from the Creator.
17. STYLE
Abruptly crisp; sonorously manipulative ; Astutely target oriented; was the style of the checkered suit businessman,
Vibrant breezy; Beautifully serene; Stupendously animated; was the style of the gigantic trunk oak tree,
Boisterously escalating; Tenaciously clashing; Fabulously salty; was the style of
the boundlessly undulating ocean,
Impeccably innocent; Entirely oblivious to vagaries of monotonous life; as innocuous as the virgin sea shores; was the style of the freshly born and incessantly sleeping child,
Viciously wicked; Perilously threatening; Furtively clever; was the style of the acerbic tailed & lethally venomous scorpion,
Bountifully colossal; Blissfully serene; Dynamically fluttering; was the style of the unfathomable expanse of azure sky,
Overwhelmingly verbose; Inundated with countless alphabets; Encompassing every word on this planet; was the style of the leather bound and enchantingly embellished dictionary,
Tangily seductive; Voluptuously enticing; Ravishingly beautiful; was the style of the young maiden,
Blatantly deplorable; Thunderously smelly; Obnoxiously fat; was the style of the garbage coated and pretentiously inflated pig,
Magically smooth; Uninhibitedly unrestricted; Handsomely buoyant; was the style of the wide spread and majestically gliding eagle,
Brilliantly flamboyant; Omnipotent & supremely enthusing; Sizzling the entire Universe in the swirl of its austerely fiery rays; was the style of the Kingly Sun,
Disdainfully dirty; Mischievously poking; Large eyed and petrified; was the style of the gargantuan rat sleeping peacefully on a bar of immaculate cheese,
Gorgeously sweet; Insurmountably tantalizing; Heavenly scented; was the style of the incomprehensibly spongy and cherry tipped triangular cake,
Pertinently harassing; Relentlessly irate; Perniciously and incorrigibly permeating; was the style of the inconspicuously diminutive mosquito,
Preposterously large; Heinously diabolical; Mammoth jawed and cannibalistic; was the style of the stoically silver shark,
Rambunctiously busy; Rampantly darting around; Mystically diffusing delectable globs of golden honey; was the style of the electric paced and diving bumble bee,
Poig
nantly sharp; Celestially tasting; Astronomically reinvigorating; was the style of the profusely aromatic morning tea,
Unsurpassably slippery; Wildly woven; Intractably sticky; was the style of the splendidly captivating and criss-crossed spider web,
Stringently barking; Irrefutably loyal; Blessed with an astounding prowess to smell even the most obscure of footprints; was the style of the fur coated sheep dog,
Unimaginably blessed; Engendering a person to march forward all his life; Vivaciously pouring tears of happiness and sadness at times; was the style of
the effusively turbulent eye,
Infectiously sweet; Crunchy & Delicious; Incredulously exotic; was the style of the raw crystals of scintillating white sugar,
Tumultuously freezing; More transparent than any mirror; Shimmering ingratiatingly under milky moonlight; was the style of the mountain of white ice,
Astoundingly cozy; Wonderfully compassionate; Exquisitely sheltering naked skin from inclement cold; was the style of the richly evolved and meticulously stitched satiny quilt,
Insurmountably heavy; Extraordinarily abraded demeanor; Remaining as stoical as dead even in bizarre affliction; was the style of the bulky grey stone boulder,
Magnificently striped; Dispersed into shades of mesmerizing beauty; Tremendously fascinating; was the style of the opalescent rainbow,
Abusively dirty; Repugnant to virtually all mankind; Abhorrently white sandwiched between glowing follicles of scalp hair; was the style of pugnacious dandruff,
Deadly disastrous; Inexorably earth shattering; Unprecedentedly devastating; was the style of the cold blooded and killer earthquake,
Melodiously cascading; Clashing into a billion globules of sparkling froth; Gorgeously caressing the periphery of black rock; was the style of the profoundly exuberant and gurgling waterfall,
Unflinchingly brave; An intrepid adventurer; Compromising on nothing but the traitors scalp; was the style of the true soldier,
Love without discrimination; Unquestionably sacrosanct visage; Thoughts about her child solely lingering in her mind; was the style of the Divinely mother,
Incessantly on the prowl; Ruthlessly assassinating innocent heads for meager bundles of currency; Traces of humanity evaporated into remote oblivion; was the style of
the cold blooded criminal,
Inevitably smiling; Instilling life in morbidly dead veins; Heaps of talcum powder irrevocably sticking to his face; was the style of the comically attired circus clown,
Opulently glimmering; Overpowering everything in vicinity by the tenacious power in its shine; Coined as the richest source of human survival; was the style of the
fat bodied gold coin,
Deluged with blissful scent; Beyond perceptions of captivating beauty; Sprouting like a magician from a pond of dirty water; was the style of the prolifically redolent and pink lotus,
Dolorously dull; Strangulated with gruesomely contemptuous malice; Aligned with a massive battalion of blood sucking termites; was the style of the impregnably hostile prison cell,
Rosily pink; Intransigently titillating; Chattering infinite times in a single day; was the style of velvety soft lips,
A glistening thirst quencher; Pacifying scorched chords of the throat beyond the mightiest of perception; Guzzled by every palpable being till the time he exists and even in times of after life; was the style of pure and plain spring water,
Bombastically sleazy; Nictitating with a festoon of garish lights; A clandestine retreat for heartthrobs after midnight; was the style of the indefatigably pulsating country discotheque,
Continuously ticking; Accurately depicting various shades of life; Portraying to all the immense value of time; was the style of the towering and century old grandfather clock,
Lifelessly still; Nostalgically reminiscent; Placid yet profusely demonstrative; was the style of the decade old and dusty photograph,
Exorbitantly mounted; Embossed with several lines; The ultimate chapter of destiny; was the style of the scarlet complexioned rubicund palm,
Infinitesimally tiny; Blended with a rectangle and square; Kissing the key umpteenth number of times in a day; was the style of the intricately dainty enigmatic keyhole,
Supremely tantalizing; Astonishingly curled; Flirtatiously flashing; was the style of the gentle and beautiful eyelashes,
Vehemently stinking; Freely available all day; Enticing an armory of flies the instants it caressed the ground; was the style of colorlessly trapped saliva,
Astoundingly incarcerating; Playfully rollicking; Acrobatically jumping; was the style of the adorable and honey crested dolphin,
Satanically awesome; Taller than the skies; Ghoulishly growling; was the style of
the savagely stepping devil,
Perpetually invisible; Able to cast its wicked spell over innocent human beings; Lighter than the lightest of thread; was the style of the lecherously minded ghost,
Standing like a pillar in times of distress; Helping without the slightest of expectation; Praying for her brothers safety in whatever arena he stepped; was the style of the unprejudiced sister,
And Passionately free; Invincible to all powers of this globe; Immortally existing since centuries unprecedented; Divinely blending palpitating hearts together; was the style of love; infact the style of the Omnipresent Creator.
18. PLEASE BESTOW UPON ME
Please bestow upon me the status of being a jeweler; owning a palatial shop embodied with scintillating diamonds and gold,
Only if i had the heart to embellish all those earlobes which were bare; all
fingers with an urge to dispense justice; with beads of exotic white pearls.
Please bestow upon me the status of being a soldier; cherished awards and
amulets adorning my bedroom mantelpiece,
Only if I possessed the tenacity to valiantly fight; was ready to relinquish
life any minute; for the sake of my country.
Please bestow upon me the status of being a Poet; penning down infinite lines of mystical verse,
Only if I propagated the immortality of love; the spirit of humanity; the
essence of life through my Poetry.
Please bestow upon me the status of being a King; and my treasury overflowing incessantly with opulent riches,
Only if I had the philanthropic ability to to disseminate the same equally; amongst all the people of my Kingdom.
Please bestow upon me the status of being a Pilot; performing astounding and
acrobatic feats; nose-diving in free space,
Only if I safely transported all passengers; without the slightest of scratch from one destination to another.
Please bestow upon me the status of being an Astrologer; impregnated with
the incredulous ability of prognosticating the future,
Only if I used the same for saving lives; implemented it prudently for the betterment of mankind.
Please bestow upon me the status of being a wrestler; with bulging muscles protruding from under my shirt; making me almost an invincible entity to conquer,
Only if I used my omnipotent power to annihilate the demons; vanquish ominous elements endangering the society.
Please bestow upon me the status of being an Artist; sketching mesmerizing shapes with my brush at lightening speeds,
Only if I could utilize my blood to beautify existence; convey the message of those deprived; through my drawings.
Please bestow upon me the status of being a Singer; diffusing enchanting and
spell binding tunes from my throat,
Only if I opened my mouth every time my country needed me to speak; put people engulfed with hysterical grief; to blissful sleep with my voice.
And Please bestow upon me the status of being a Human; appeasing my hunger
and thirst twice every day,
Only if I worked hard to earn my own bread; walked ahead in tandem with my
fellow counterparts; entwining their palms with mine.
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19. ITS POSSIBLE; BECAUSE IT IS NATURAL
How was it ever possible when you resolved to remain awake the entire night; keeping your eyelids incorrigibly open,
1 God – Poems on God , Creator – volume 4 Page 5