1 God – Poems on God , Creator – Volume 3 by Nikhil Parekh - HTML preview

46. A PARASITE FROM A PARADISE

Overwhelmed by sedation; in the realms of fathomlessly enchanting fantasy,

Floating on a blanket of clouds; with a festoon of seductive fairies dancing incessantly around me,

Embracing the voluptuous coat of verdant grass full throttle; rampantly rolling in the stupendous blades till times immemorial,

Perceiving the most incredulous objects in this Universe; surging astronomically forward than the spirit of times,

Tell me where is death; Tell me where is pain; More importantly Tell me O! Almighty lord; why have people made this blissful planet of yours; a parasite from a paradise.
 

Sniffing the mesmerizing aroma of heavenly nectar; boisterously leaping behind the swarming bees,

Blending majestically with the Sunshine; basking under in the glory of milky beams of exotic moon,

Admiring the resplendent blanket of glittering stars; philandering like a price on the summit of velvety ice,

Saluting the birds soaring high in the ephemeral evenings; profoundly lost in the cadence of the Queenly nightingale,

Tell me where is death; Tell me where is pain; More importantly Tell me O! Almighty lord; why have people made this blissful planet of yours; a parasite from a paradise. 

Galloping through the fields of blossoming corn; indefatigably cuddling the innocuous sheep sleeping on the hills,

Gyrating fervently in the music of the morning cuckoo; splashing euphorically in an unfathomable ocean of tangy water,

Daintily caressing the Oligarchic oyster; seductively swishing the body under the ravishing waterfall that enigmatically cascaded from the mountain,

Feasting on a celestial meal of rhapsodically fresh cherries; lying in mute silence on the shimmering carpet of sea sands,

Tell me where is death; Tell me where is pain; More importantly Tell me O! Almighty lord; why have people made this blissful planet of yours; a parasite from a paradise. 
 
Placing the arms in the lap of insurmountably bountiful nature; chasing squirrels as they slithered in sheer ecstasy up the corrugated tree,

Voraciously coating the entire body with a slurry of tantalizingly wet rain mud; gasping in dumbfounded astonishment as the mirage loomed larger in the golden

desert soil,

Listening with rapt attention to the incredulously animated chirping of the amicable parrot; gallivanting beside the fire as its royal flames crackled in the midst of marvelous midnight,

Savoring exuberantly cool coconut with rubicund pair of lips; transiting into a rejuvenating reverie; boundless decades before this Universe was first created,

Tell me where is death; Tell me where is pain; More importantly Tell me O! Almighty lord; why have people made this blissful planet of yours; a parasite from a paradise.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

47. WHO THE HELL WERE YOU ? 

The flower while diffusing its scent didn’t think even once, as to whether its fragrance was going to be inhaled by the savage beasts or by an impeccable human,

 

The clouds while pelting sheets of crystal rain didn't think even once, as to whether the water would drench a person who was ominously black or pure white,

 

The trees while shedding fruit didn’t think even once as to whether the resins toppling would be consumed by road side beggar or the jeweled prince seated

handsomely on the crown,

 

The fire while blazing full throttle didn’t think even once, as to whether its flames would shelter the naked or the fully clothed; in the freezing night,

 

The moon shimmering majestically didn’t think even once as to whether its profound glow would illuminate the house of a "Hindu" or an orthodox "Islam",

 

The river flowing perennially didn’t think even once, as to whether its waters would pacify the thirst of a blind man or a girl with golden eyes,

 

The bees while making tones of sparkling honey didn’t think even once, as to whether a mother would apply the same on her infants lips or red ants would crawl

greedily from all sides,

 

The wind as it gustily blew didn’t think even once, as to whether its harmonious flow cooled the most sophisticated or granted solace to those behind prison bars in sweltering summer,

 

The feather tipped pen as it wrote didn’t think even once, as to whether it was held in the hands of the sanctimonious priest or a true writer embossing boundless lines of literature with his own blood,

 

The wet soil sprawled over million kilometers of territory didn’t think even once, as to whether it was going to be used in construction of the grandiloquent castle or to raise walls of the dingy seaside hut,

 

The oxygen circulating freely in air didn’t think even once, as to whether its was going to instill new life in the lungs of a criminal or revive the dying prime-minister,

 

The tufts of immaculate cotton sprouting in fields didn’t even think once, as to whether they were going to be stitched for the body of a King or would softly

caress the one legged orphan,

 

The panoramic landscapes of Nature didn’t even think once, as to whether their beauty would drown the mightiest entity or harbor the hideous beaked vulture,

 

The enchanting cuckoo while singing didn’t think even once, as to whether its voice would appease the soldiers marching through the border or put off the ungainly burglars to tranquil sleep,

 

The silver granules of sweat while dribbling didn’t think even once, as to whether to ooze from the armpits of a Business tycoon or roll from the bedraggled laborer working on the rooftop,

 

The heart while throbbing didn’t think even once, as to whether it was beating in the chest of a tall man or people born as dwarfs since birth,

 

The passion in love didn’t think even once, as to whether it was embracing the stinkingly rich or the individual trespassing in tottered trousers,

 

The Creator while evolving the Universe didn’t think even once, as to whether there would be man or woman, the rich or poor, the black or white, the tall or

short, the language of English or mystical Sanskrit, 

THEN WHO THE HELL WERE YOU TO DISCRIMINATE, ATTACH

BASELESS VALUES TO SOCIETY AND CASTE, RIP APART THE

ENTIRE HUMAN KIND INTO SEGMENTS OF DIFFERENT COLOR?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

48. HE WHO IS AFRAID OF DEATH 

He who is afraid of stark darkness; is never accepted by brilliant daylight,

 

He who is afraid of inexplicable pain; is never accepted by perennial joy,

 

He who is afraid of barbaric betrayal; is never accepted by passionate fantasy and sizzling romance,

 

He who is afraid of fulminating lava and blistering heat; is never accepted by rosy winter with moist ice cascading freely from the skies,

 

He who is afraid of an ocean of augmenting tears; is never accepted by amicable smiles,

 

He who is afraid of the fathomless expanse of a yawn; is never accepted by boisterous energy,

 

He who is afraid of profound emptiness and more than a million hours of boredom creeping in; is never accepted by flowing time,

 

He who is afraid of ghastly accidents occurring uncannily on the streets; is never accepted by electric paced race,

 

He who is afraid of overwhelming work and rivers of perspiration dribbling out; is never accepted by frolic play,

 

He who is afraid of ghosts and appalling horror; is never accepted by the stupendous angel,

 

He who is afraid of blatant lies; is never accepted by the definitions of impeccable truth,

 

He who is afraid of abashing abuse and an armory of unheard expletives; is never accepted by the sweet melody in sound,

 

He who is afraid of the blanket cover of horrendous black; is never accepted by sparkling white,

 

He who is afraid of scorching thirst; is never accepted by gushing rivers of white water,

 

He who is afraid of licentious desires and the chapter of procreation; is never accepted by the domains of any religion,

He who is afraid of violent whirlpools and tumultuous storms; is never accepted

by the pleasant evening,

 

He who is afraid of the hissing reptile; is never accepted by the chimneys of glittering gold,

 

He who is afraid of crumbling in shambles on the ground; is never accepted by the twin pair of robust legs,

 

He who is afraid of wholesome silence; is never accepted by the virtue of eloquent speech,

 

He who is afraid of clusters of hideous fungus; is never accepted by the rubicund fruit,

 

He who is afraid of tyrannical slavery; is never accepted by the royal

and stupendously embellished throne,

 

He who is afraid of indiscriminate massacre and bloodshed; is never accepted by immortal laughter,

 

He who is afraid of decaying stench and dilapidated cobweb; is never accepted by

the incredulously fragrant rose,

 

He who is afraid of the new born infant; is never accepted by the prudently sagacious adult,

 

He who is afraid of undulating and harsh sands of the desert; is never accepted

by pure satiny silk,

 

He who is afraid of infinite shards of broken glass; is never accepted by

the handsomely scintillating mirror,

 

He who is afraid of unprecedented starvation; is never accepted by ravishing

morsels of tantalizing food,

 

He who is afraid of mind boggling enigmas; is never accepted by the perfectly synchronized solution,

 

He who is afraid of the unsurpassable depth of the valley; is never accepted by the plain terrain and rustic roads,

 

He who is afraid of the rotten pile of disparaging garbage; is never accepted by the sacrosanct and holy Ganges,

He who is afraid of the colossal and pugnacious battlefield; is never accepted by

the apostle of peace,

 

He who is afraid of stringently blaring music and an ambience of wandering wolves; is never accepted by the pious temple,

 

He who is afraid of the devil and the towering giant; is never accepted by the Omnipotent creator,

 

And he who is afraid of death and the morbid silhouette of corpse; is never

accepted by mesmerizing life.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

49. IF THERE WAS ANYBODY 

There were some who hated office; for being murderously monotonous; invidiously trespassing against their blissful lives and compassionately adorable families,

 

There were some who hated war; for being diabolically destructive; evolving civilizations of newness; at the cost of countless rivers of innocent blood,

 

There were some who hated the day; for being acrimoniously blistering; savagely crippling the flow of uninhibitedly untamed fantasy; in their surreally exotic minds,

 

There were some who hated the cuckoo; for devilishly disturbing their celestial morning sleep; ruthlessly jarring them from their ingratiatingly nocturnal slumber

and rhapsodic bedcover delights,

 

There were some who hated the buildings; for satanically obstructing their panoramically pristine view; for lecherously asphyxiating them of veritably glorious air and exhilarating exuberance,

 

There were some who hated the dungeons; for disastrously camouflaging their blissfully innocuous persona; with violent whirlpools of ghastly blackness,

 

There were some who hated the rain; for vindictively playing spoil sport in their pragmatically routine activities; impeding their electric pace; to triumphantly surge forward in vibrant life,

 

There were some who hated the gutters; for obnoxiously infiltrating the tranquil serenity of their dwellings; with horrendously preposterous scent,

 

There were some who hated the mountains; for perilously hovering in the way of their handsomely majestic flight; engendering them to crash like insipid mincemeat; against the treacherously demonic slopes,

 

There were some who hated the clock; for indefatigably tick tocking all night and brilliant day; not letting them rest even an inconspicuous trifle; to wholesomely

shrug the astronomical perseverance of the previous day,

 

There were s