Monthly Archives: April 2016

The easiest way to provoke a madman; was to recount to him the incidents of his life which actually triggered off his madness,

The easiest way to provoke a politician; was to vehemently oppose the policies he proposed,

The easiest way to provoke a roadside beggar; was to keep reminding him incessantly of his poverty and impoverished state,

The easiest way to provoke a school teacher; was to give preposterously wrong answers; to every question she asked,

The easiest way to provoke a gardener; was to furtively keep plucking the fruits from his trees; driving him beyond the point of imaginable exasperation,

The easiest way to provoke a lion; was to snatch its prey with astounding ease; right from the center of its jaws,

The easiest way to provoke the musician; was to blurt out cacophonic tunes every time he felt; that he had established himself into a perfect rhythm,

The easiest way to provoke guests entering the dwelling; was to blend your oily scalp hair; in the tea you hospitably served them,

The easiest way to provoke the mammoth elephant; was to leave a battalion of red ants next to his feet; when he was overwhelmingly relishing his meal of green leaf,

The easiest way to provoke the peon in the office; was to order him to serve you a glass of water; as soon as the poor fellow had delivered the previous one,

The easiest way to provoke the soldier; was to let the enemy pass from under his nose; camouflaged in the color of the surrounding; to evade the most ingenious of his senses,

The easiest way to provoke the monstrous shark; was to shoot its jaded body with a fleet of lanky harpoons,

The easiest way to provoke a clown; was to burst into hysterical sobs, when he performed his comic acts,

The easiest way to provoke the priest; was to disturb his profound concentration; when he was lost in reciting the name of God,
The easiest way to provoke the magician; was to steal away the wand he used to execute magic & transform all stone into gold,

The easiest way to provoke a writer; was to cynically view his work; tell him blatantly on his face; that he wouldn’t earn even a penny out of the infinite volumes of literature he had taken pains to pen down,

The easiest way to provoke the Almighty creator; was to violate his laws of existence; drift on a nefarious path that eventually found him decimate you to raw ash,

And the easiest way to provoke me; was to lay eyes on my beloved; try and cast a spell on her already engaged heart; which either found me killing the person who dared to do so; or in case if I failed; bidding goodbye to this earth forever.

The dress to unsurpassably thrill her; lift her to infinite altitude from her nimble feet; as she was plaintively traversing through bland patches of erratically cut green grass,

The dress to uncannily excite her; metamorphose even the most disparagingly infertile of her moods; into a eternally ardent and royal proliferation,

The dress to timelessly enchant her; rouse even the most cadaverously limp follicle of hair on her skin; to beyond the epitome of Everest; in the revitalizing stillness of the atmosphere,

The dress to majestically silence her; quell even the most insouciant of her apprehensions; with the invincible magic of profound charisma and compassionate royalty,

The dress to perennially magnetize her; perpetuate even the most ephemerally fluttering of shadow; to follow and forever entwine with the essence of your personality,

The dress to inimitably impress her; tirelessly evoke the most inscrutable tingling in her flesh; an unstoppable yearning in her chest to embrace every quarter of your demeanor,

The dress to uncontrollably triumph her; attain perpetual victory over her silken countenance; as she nimbly surrendered even the most ethereal of her intimate senses to your unconquerably handsome swirl,

The dress to timelessly conquer her; leave an intransigent impression of your wondrously fervent personality; upon every globule of fiery sweat that dribbled down her ecstatic skin,

The dress to effortlessly liberate her; wholesomely emptying even the most disastrously maiming of her tensions into sheer nothingness; as she solely floated in the aisles of untamed desire,

The dress to inadvertently capture her; eventually gather complete control over even the most oblivious insinuations of her shadow; as she helplessly melted deeper and deeper into the blacks of your piercing eyes,

The dress to inexplicably provoke her; trigger the dormant labyrinths of creative energy entrapped in her spirit; to unlimitedly fulminate into an unceasing festoon of miraculous innovation,

The dress to undyingly fascinate her; foment her to fantasize beyond the realms of the mundane; and till the last cloud that hovered on the blissfully golden horizons,

The dress to unchallangably win her; infallibly draw even the most imperturbable part of her persona towards your undefeated masculinity; even in the most invisibly flickering of light,

The dress to pricelessly cast a spell on her; make her minutely feel even the most unexplored of your vibrant imagery; through heart-renderingly poignant telepathy,

The dress to reincarnate the artist in her; granting fresh life to the haplessly dead tombs of virility in her soul; as she unabashedly let nectar to slip from each pore of her body; and blend with every single ingredient of the atmosphere,

The dress to effulgently impregnate her; replenish every aspect of her drearily impoverished existence; with everything that was beautifully and merrily abounding on this uninhibited planet,

The dress to insuperably propose her; with a surety of nothing else but ‘yes’ rebounding back from the swish of her tongue; as majestically kissed the farthest finger of her queenly hands,

The dress to phlegmatically reborn her; inevitably make her rise from her languid corpse; unfathomably flustered by the sheer size and enigmatic shades of your larger than life personality,

Was. O! Yes undoubtedly was. The Dress in Pure and Powerful Black. In the Pure blackness of the voluptuously embellished and sensuously blessed night.

Steaming coffee in the tall mugs was growing cold,
long table cloth was developing blotches of brown mud stain,
the ground floor was engulfed in heaps of disdainful dust,
sparkling glass tops displayed infinite scratch marks,
a basket of fresh fruit now lay squashed in neglect,
utensils of stainless steel had transformed into pale bronze,
rich portraits portraying war scenes hung listlessly from the wall,
heaps of literary books lay buried under a mountain of sand,
pitchers full of mineral water now bred a cluster of fungus,
roof light bulbs had formed a fountain of cracks,
ivory doors of cupboards were smudged with bird manure,
wooden legs of furniture had crawling termite,
the mirror on the staircase gave ghostly reflections,
wild stalks of grass projected from the infertile soil.

he had bid farewell to the earth decades ago,
lived life like a thorough eccentric when alive,
his mansion now lay deserted,
tucked within the picturesque plains of the tropical forests,
the desolate palace was worth a handsome fortune,
if only someone ventured through dense territories of the jungle,
unveiling the monastery standing solitary in its mystical charm,
in a camouflage of parasitic creepers trying to suck blood from the wall of century
old brick.

The day I didn’t wear clothes; I shivered uncontrollably in the austere breeze of uncouth winter,

They day I didn’t eat food; I found myself miserably slithering towards the
corridors of precarious starvation,

The day I didn’t write poetry; I found my fingers virtually paralyzed; and the blood in my robust veins metamorphosed into a morbidly colorless liquid,

The day I didn’t bathe; I felt pools of disdainfully fetid sweat; stab my impeccable visage more than a billion treacherous thorns,

The day I didn’t sleep; I felt daggerheads of insurmountably fatigued exasperation; assassinating each iota of my blissfully mental peace,

The day I didn’t wink; I felt the romantic youth in me die an obnoxiously famished death; all mischief in the atmosphere pathetically desert me like a piece of dilapidated garbage,

The day I didn’t pray; I felt like a diabolical monster; drifting further and further away from the sacrosanct countenance of Omnipotent God,

The day I didn’t lie in the lap of my mother; I felt as if the world had come to a brusque end; there wasn’t an iota of humanity prevailing in any quarter of this colossal Universe,

The day I didn’t swim; I felt as if the insatiable exuberance in my bones had died
a profusely asphyxiated death,

The day I didn’t discover; I felt as if my incredulously augmenting fantasy; had ruthlessly blended with ethereally dwindling horizons,

The day I didn’t dream; I felt that life was a barbarically monotonous workshop; with each hour of the day relentlessly restricted to the realms of parasitic office,

The day I didn’t realize; I felt horrendously pompous and pretentiously inflated; with my conscience whipping me to profusely apologize to the mesmerizing winds outside,

The day I didn’t drink water; I felt the tumultuously scorching agony in my throat; compelling me to swoon like withering fish on the ground,

The day I didn’t tease my sister; I felt as if I sitting astoundingly close to my grave; although I was just on the threshold to commence life,

The day I didn’t gaze at the resplendent stars; I felt as if my world was intransigently confined to the four bare brick walls of my dwelling,

The day I didn’t respect my elders; I felt that I was boisterously irascible fly; about to be inevitably squashed by the sword of righteousness,

The day I didn’t listen to my heart; I felt as if I had horrifically failed in every attempt of mine; although I stood towering on the absolute pinnacle of life,

The day I didn’t wholeheartedly love; I felt there was no reason to survive; started prematurely on my journey to the heavens; without the tiniest insinuation of Almighty Lord,

And the day I didn’t breathe; there was no time for me to feel or romanticize about hell or heaven; for I lay like a wholesomely mute corpse; infact to cut the story short; I was irrefutably dead.

the day she sobbed with unsubsiding hysteria,
i would try and assassinate the reason for her agony from its very existent roots.

the day she slept barefoot; bearing the tumultuous onslaught of winter winds,
i would cover her trembling body with furry skin of mountain bear.

the day she bruised her skin; with prolific streams of blood oozing out,
i would kiss it with passionate warmth; leaving it for it to heal with bonds of our omnipresent love.

the day she sequestered herself in realms of isolation,
i would make her violently laugh to exit from vigils of solitary boredom.

the day she sneezed incessantly; with heat soaring to Herculean proportions in her body,
i would prepare sizzling hot cupfuls of incense tea; for her to get some respite.

the day she complained of her temples throbbing,
i would massage her scalp with deft strokes of my palm.

the day she giggled freely with a pack of lecherous strangers,
i would scold her for betraying me; with my anger rising to unprecedented limits.

the day she seemed exhausted to raise her feet,
i would hoist her on my shoulders to make her witness the outside world.

the day she screamed at me for arriving late,
i would try and pacify her anger by tickling her vociferously.

the day she seemed hapless while knitting me a sweater,
i would try and execute fervent attempts to solve her dilemma.

the day she was struck viciously by deathly fangs of the garden snake,
i would extract the venom with my teeth; bringing her back to consciousness.

and the day she said she wanted to terminate our relationship; leaving me forever,
i would simply have no other option but to die.

The day the carpet of voluptuous grass; stung like a million acrimonious thorns,

The day the conglomerate of mesmerizing clouds; showered mud instead of grandiloquent rain,

The day the majestic waves in the ocean; blossomed into sickening sugar instead of tangy globules of pungent salty froth,

The day the crystalline islands of eye; oozed satanic blood instead of poignant waterfall of tears,

The day the fiery Sun in the sky; shrunk into a cloud of darkness; instead of emanating brilliantly shimmering light,

The day the astronomical summit of the mountain; metamorphosed into an inconspicuous ant; instead of kissing the royally glowing moon,

The day the princely eagles; commenced to walk like ordinary man; instead of soaring handsomely through the cocoon of satiny clouds,

The day the festoon of exotic leaves; incorrigibly stuck to their origin; instead of exuberantly whistling with the astoundingly enchanting wind,

The day the incredulously captivating rose; remained profusely lackluster; instead of diffusing its marvelous fragrance to every cranny of the atmosphere,

The day the ingratiatingly striped frogs; slept in domains of gloomy tranquility; instead of croaking their hearts out under ferocious cloudbursts of heavenly rain,

The day the timelessly ticking clock; started to move backwards; instead of galloping forward with traces of new found life,

The day the vivacious rainbow in the sky; remained colorless; instead of culminating into a magnificent paradise of color and ravishing charisma,

The day the shade of poignantly crimson blood; started to differ; instead of being immortally same for all tribes on this planet,

The day the rambunctiously buzzing beehives; started to produce belligerent scorpions; instead of a sacrosanct stream of golden honey,

The day the magnanimous nightingale; blurted hoarse tunes of disdainful cacophony; instead of deluging the atmosphere with its melodiously everlasting songs,

The day the golden eyed owl; remained awake all day; instead of guarding its compatriots in the heart of the chilling night,

The day the essence of invincible truth; crumbled like infinitesimal ash towards the ground; instead of conquering the mightiest with the blessings of Almighty Creator,

The day the inevitable reservoir of breath in body; commanded a person to gruesomely die; instead of propelling him to bounce forward to relish every moment of enigmatically unveiling life,

The day the passionately palpitating heart; taught two lovers to cheat; instead of bonding for times immemorial in the threads of unconquerable romance,

That very day; that very hour; that very minute; I was ready to sacrifice everything of mine on this planet; go and perennially rest in the arms of my Creator; even if the devil that day wanted to bestow me with infinite more lives.

The darker side of blindness was an unrelenting camouflage of austere black,
while brighter aspect of the same was a sensitive tuning of the hollow ear drum.

The darker side of a wounded bruise was gushing streams of blood flowing,
while brighter aspect of the same; was firm resilience to anguish and pain.

The darker side of the ocean was drowning to death,
while brighter aspect of the same was; a cluster of striped fish swimming.

The darker side of squashed vegetable was clouds of insidious stench emanating,
while brighter aspect of the same was blissful manure for an artillery of dead shrub.

The darker side of a computer was a total entropy of handwriting,
while brighter aspect of the same was crisp outlines of calligraphy ornately printed.

The darker side of the twin horned cow was that it was fat and indolent,
while brighter aspect of the same was that it suckled gallons of fresh milk.

The darker side of the Sun was acrimonious rays cauterizing tender patches of skin,
while brighter aspect of the same was complete fumigation of the water logged environment.

The darker side of a candy chocolate was a plethora of cavities in mouth palette,
while brighter aspect of the same was waves of felicity submerging a person in euphoria.

The darker side of moon was that it diffused feeble beams of opalescent light,
while brighter aspect of the same was that it illuminated gruesome darkness with rays of hope.

The darker side of residing in a jungle was immense fear of savage beasts,
while brighter aspect of the same was bathing in crystal waters of the virgin river.

The darker side of being a dog was being treated with loads of contempt and
malice,
while brighter aspect of the same was ferociously growling canine teeth at strangers.

The darker side of death was traumatic pain and tumultuous sorrow,
while brighter aspect of the same was to give someone a chance to live.

The darker side of love was infinite perils lurking in the society,
while the brighter aspect of the same was relishing the feeling of being cared.

The cry of the lion was majestically thunderous; although it died as the minutes rapidly unveiled; with the stupendous tranquility of the forests taking wholesome control,

The cry of the clouds was insatiably voluptuous; although it faded after a while; as the Sun Omnipotently enlightened even the most infinitesimal entity in neighboring vicinity,

The cry of the shark was royally piercing; although it diminished almost as soon as it had come; with the unfathomably undulating wave wholesomely drowning it into an ocean of mesmerizing froth,

The cry of the eagle was exuberantly aristocratic; although it vanished surreptitiously from the sky in an ethereal flash; as cyclonically untamed maelstroms perpetuated the canvas of the panoramic valley,

The cry of the nightingale was melodiously enchanting; although it blended with the aisles of nothingness after a while; as the triumphantly trumpeting elephants insatiably marauded the meadows; left; right and rampant center,

The cry of the gloriously unflinching warrior was supremely ecstatic; although it coalesced with threadbare mud in an ethereal instant; as an unsurpassably unending tirade of pugnacious bombs; brutally plummeted upon him from the enemy camp,

The cry of the waterfalls was harmoniously enchanting; although it dried up as quickly as flashes of lightening thunder; as the tyranny of the acrimoniously sweltering day evaporated every bit of it; into wisps of obsoletely disappearing oblivion,

The cry of the bee was boisterously swarming; although it soon mellowed to an inconspicuous trace of its original self; as the scent of the magnanimously everlasting lotus unconquerably enshrouded everything above hard ground,

The cry of the seductress was ebulliently tantalizing; although it disappeared into the ingredients of nothingness like a trice of a bullet; as the silken magic of the titillating night soon gave way to the hideously monotonous day,

The cry of the clocktower was stringently meticulous; although it quickly subsided into a corpse of morbid meaninglessness; as the lanky arm struck past the wonderfully reverberating hour,

The cry of the rainbow was resplendently vivacious; although it fleetingly hid in its shell of sequestered oblivion; as the blanket of poignantly crimson clouds soon took a insurmountably bountiful grip of the fathomless sky,

The cry of the dewdrops was beautifully exhilarating; although it pathetically evaporated into bits of open space; as soon as the Sun blazed to its domineeringly
profound radiance in the boundless sky,

The cry of the leaves was mystically seductive; although it transformed into a diminutively subdued mellow; as the victoriously advancing gusty wind now became a song of charismatic love,

The cry of the newly born was Omnisciently effusive; although it became a fugitive impression of its ownself; as the years advanced and the web of inevitably insidious commercialism took disgusting control,

The cry of the brain was fantastically unfathomable and incessantly exploring; although it transited into an inferno of lackadaisical disparagement; as the savagery of uncouth society salaciously overpowered every intricate arena of survival,

The cry of the conscience was irrefutably honest; although it sporadically manipulated itself every now and again; as existence was of the most quintessentially paramount importance amidst the pack of satanically lecherous wolves,

The cry of breath was charismatically sensuous; although it veritably finished in limited amounts of unfurling time; as the strokes of destiny eventually had their unavoidably final say,

But the cry of the heart was immortally unassailable; come what may; passionately shuddering even centuries immemorial after wholesome diminishing of the bodily
form; perpetually uniting with God’s most pricelessly Omnipotent beats of love.

Neither was he solely of the intransigently sermonizing Christian; tirelessly prostrating infront of the magnificently embellished idol of ‘Jesus Christ’,

Neither was he solely of the fanatically resolute Muslim; who indefatigably immersed himself all night and day; into the sacred literature of the ‘Quran-e-Sharif’,

Neither was he solely of the nimble bodied Hindu; who intractably chanted the name of ‘Rama’ an infinite times; in a single unabashedly simpleton minute,

Neither was he solely of the altruistically renounced monk; who sat till the absolute end of infinity; infront of the impeccably white statue of ‘Gautam Buddha’,

But; the Omnipotent Almighty Creator was perennially present in every ingredient of blood; which belonged to all those who ubiquitously disseminated and forever bonded with the spirit of Immortal Love.

1.

Neither was he solely of the irrevocably faithful Christian; who let a boundless opportunities in his life go astray; if they insidiously transgressed against the scriptures of his God,

Neither was he solely of the timelessly kneeling Muslim; who wasn’t prepared to leave the insuperable walls of his Mosque; renouncing every worldly pleasure of glorious existence,

Neither was he solely of the selflessly robed Hindu; who never went even an infinitesimal whisker against his stringent culture and tradition; who slept; ate and prayed only on the deserted steps of the quaint temple,

Neither was he solely of the nomadic Buddhist; who relentlessly roamed from one of the deciduous forest to the other; in his perpetual search of the invincible form of ‘Buddha’,

But; the Omnipresent Almighty Creator was perennially present in every whiff of breath; which belonged to all those who forever undertook upon themselves the mission of healing every despairing life and heart; with the panacea of Immortal Love.

2.

Neither was he solely of the unimpeachably pious Christian; who dedicated every instant of his existence; ardently rotating the venerated rosary through the knots of his hands,

Neither was he solely of the immutably single focused Muslim; who fervently believed that all religions; beliefs; nationalities; led to the ultimate Heaven of ‘Allah’,

Neither was he solely of the devoutly expressionless Hindu; who experienced the power of the entire Universe; simply by staring at the portrait of his ‘Bhagwan’; sculptured in pink stone,

Neither was he solely of the unceasingly silent Buddhist; who tried his very best to assimilate and practice the paths of his undefeated God; the undying imprints of the peace-loving ‘Buddha’,

But; the Omniscient Almighty Creator was perennially present in every beat of the heart; which belonged to all those who were the unflinchingly fearless harbingers of love; even in the land of the ghoulishly massacring demon.

3.

Neither was he solely of the unfailingly earnest Christian; who spent an infinite of his lifetimes; lighting the candles of his majestic church; in his profound admiration and appreciation of the Lord,

Neither was he solely of the wondrously enchanted Muslim; who uttered the name of ‘Allah’ at every juncture of life; and even whilst agonizingly abnegating from
the heavenly physical form,

Neither was he solely of the passionately olive skinned Hindu; who kept the name of each one in his kin as ‘Bhagwan’; to timelessly safeguard himself against every evil spirit and be in due salvation of his God,

Neither was he solely of the beautifully terse Buddisht; who spent every unfurling instant of his life; kissing the holy footprints of the impregnable ‘Gautam Buddha’,

But; the unassailable Almighty Creator was perennially present in every voice; which belonged to all those who unconquerably sang the song of unbiased friendship; who unnervingly and forever defended the Universe of Immortal Love

Be it the grandiloquently colossal castle; or the fetidly stinking gutter hosting a fleet of obnoxious cockroaches,

Be it the mystically shimmering Moon; or the sweltering sands of the mammoth desert,

Be it the fathomless expanse of the azure blue sky; or the minuscule nest of the piquant beaked woodpecker,

Be it the stupendously scented rose; or the yellow mushroom decaying to oblivion in the heart of the hills,

Be it the enigmatically deep and uncannily marvelous dungeon; or the contemporary match box shaped town square,

Be it the festoon of resplendently twinkling stars in the cosmos; or the clammy interiors of the dingy little and sordid hut,

Be it the electric paced stallion galloping through rubicund farmlands; or the potbellied tortoise traversing with Herculean effort on the hard ground,

Be it the astronomically huge ocean impregnated with flocks of blue whales; or the small trace of saliva lying desolate in the obsolete attic,

Be it the tumultuous streaks of pugnacious white lightening; or the diminutive beehive camouflaged sedately amidst the trees,

Be it the conventionally advanced computer; or the clerk who hardly knew how to sign,

Be it the impeccable tufts of cotton sprouting in blissful tandem from the fields; or the solitary rope suspended morbidly from the ceiling,

Be it the incredulously fast paced aircraft kissing the air faster than the speed of light; or the hunch backed camel yawning embarrassingly under the gargantuan cactus,

Be it the mountain laden with astonishingly scintillating jewels from all round the continent; or the droplet of blood oozing down the skin,

Be it the most invincible man trespassing on this arth; or the astoundingly small infant who had just emitted its first cry,

Be it the densely inhabited jungle with majestically roaring lions; or the soft toy of plastic standing on just a brick,

Be it the delectable meal of spell binding caramel chocolates; or the nail embedded pathetically in the broken wall,

Be it the superlatively rosy tongue chattering incessantly all throughout the brilliant day; or the stone which lay in perpetual silence beneath the lanky grass,

Be it the island which perennially received the most tenacious rays of the Sun; or the blind mans world completely obfuscated from the slightest trace of visible light,

Be it the balloon pompously inflated with incomprehensible amounts of air; or the morose tyre lying completely squashed like frigidly white ice,

Be it the entire army marching valiantly towards inevitable victory; or the impoverished beggar begging for alms every minute,

Be it the glittering gold watch ticking indefatigably round the clock; or the placidly still statue which didn’t speak or move at all,

Be it the loudest echo ever heard on this globe; or the inaudible whisper dying before it even came out,

Be it the thunderously domineering shadow of the towering edifice; or the ethereal shadow blending every now and then with the dolorous darkness,

Be it the revered interiors of the adorable dwelling; or the utterly disgusting and abhorrent steps leading to your mundane office,

Be it the crackling flames of fire that leapt ebulliently towards the coalition of emerald clouds; or the shivering piece of freezing snow dangling from the Christmas tree,

Be it the assembly of magnificently radiating mirrors bundled up in an enamoring heap; or the distorted strand of moustache floating like an insipid speck in the atmosphere,

Be it the most remarkable of memory that could conceive every possible situation to unfurl on the trajectory of this planet; or the mockingly dumb worm writhing on brown soil,

Be it the impregnable gates leading to the presidential rooms; or the inconspicuous little matchstick feeling soggy and despondently gloomy after the rains,

Be it the unbelievably big bed stuffed with ravishingly compassionate softness and warmth; or the acrimonious thorn awaiting surreptitiously for innocent flesh,

Be it the ingratiatingly sweet voice of the voluptuous nightingale; or the pertinent mosquito brooding in the profoundly hollow well,

Be it the most formidable stick in the bodyguard’s hands; or the finely pulverized pulp of ripe banana,

Be it the overwhelmingly blissful paradise harboring the angels; or the timidly remorse voice of hell,

Be it the longest fabric ever woven and beautifully stitched; or the threadbare string of dilapidated shells orphaned mercilessly on the sea shores,

Be it the heart beating turbulently engulfed in the flames of unrelenting passion; or the incongruous follicle of hair sadly detached and lying as still as the mud,

Be it the ingenious key able to crack through the labyrinth of intricate lock; or the ludicrous buffoon who kept falling even before he could rise,

Be it the luscious periphery of seductively alluring lips; or the bland water incarcerated in small jugs of wood,

Be it the awesome congregation of inscrutably swirling waves crashing splendidly against the rocks; or the dismally melting jelly in the austere heat of blazing afternoon,

Be it the unfathomable peak of Mount Everest; or the limp marble rolling on flat soil,

Be it the animatedly leaping Kangaroo with its pack of siblings in its bulging pocket; or the perpetually still photograph hanging in the sleazy dressing room,

Be it the exorbitantly costly shoes adorned by the King as he walked on the streets; or the nakedly petite foot coalescing with dust each time it kicked,

Be it the poignantly sharp kitchen knife ripping apart through vegetables with nonchalant ease; or the blunt sand with no taste of its at all,

Be it the rivulets of perspiration dribbling tantalizingly through exotic skin; or the brutally wounded territories of bruise that were left uncouthly unattended,

Be it the beautifully embellished crown of the blue blooded prince; or the mortifying bed about to split into splinters on which the laborer slept,
Be it the most skillful doctor’s clinic which was inundated with a host of invaluably countless medicines; or the doorstep of the patient attacked by a mysteriously inexplicable disease,

Be it the wholesomely fascinating magician conjuring mind boggling tricks on the stage; or the ordinary soldier who wasn’t acquainted the slightest with the art of bombastic sophistication,

Be it the handsomely heroic stag staring at its reflection in the mesmerizing persona of transparent water; or the horrendously ugly eunuch smoking his life into relentless oblivion,

Be it a man following staunch religion all day and every single night; or the furtive castaway who didn’t know what was God at all,

Be it the most invincible of abode above ground; or the evanescent corpse buried boundless feet beneath,

You name it and he was there; and you didn’t have to walk marathon miles to reach the temple; church; mosque; or monastery to worship him; you could very
well close your eyes and pray to him wherever you wanted; for the Almighty Creator was Omnipresent; the creator was everywhere.