The Antithetical Saga

Life's ongoing process is not complete ,
Unless contradictions do not replete .

Felicity cannot be to its extent fully felt ,
Until with gloominess, you haven't dealt .

Summits can never be mined ,
If you haven't with failures dined !

Greatness comes with a series of Progression ,
All you've to avoid is Cry and Depression .

Ups and Downs are all part of life ,
Every peaceful act can too have its contrary violent strife .

Eminency is never bowered all at once ,
Encounter with criticisms necessitates before, in bunch .

The meek lamb is a contrast to ferocious tiger ,
The pilot in the sky is too different from ocean's diver .

Heaven and Hell are two contradictions as well ,
One's a celestial abode and the other, a doomed abyssal shell .

Have and have-nots are Marx's two categorizations ,
Which always seem to fill the increasing earthly population .

On this fake stage , some assumes a condescending tone ,
Whereas the other adorns himself as a timid bone .

Everything has its own pros as well as cons ,
The human sciences abound cramps and also, pons .

Childhood is to innocence and adulthood to experience ,
Everything in the world needs to be mete with and dole hence .

A woman is regarded pure unless not compared with slattern ,
Decency, Character and Quietness- this all she needs to earn .

So much so, the contrariness in this world resides ,
That even gender status 'male' and 'female' in the list of opposites abides .

It was what we were made to learn in our childhood times ,
The word 'equality' and 'upliftment' in this context exist only as mimes .

The question of differences does not at all end here ,
As Occidental world refers the Orient as 'Other' , and as a 'brother' nowhere .

Tautology stands on one side and fallacy as contrariwise ,
Cats are given a life so as to devour their rival mice .

The word 'Life' can be called to be inherently an Oxymoron ,
Because we are infused with life so as to someday, by sand, get borne.

It is the precept of the life which one never escapes ,
The Binaries are contra-distinct in nature, which never mates .

The World in itself is an exemplary of the same map ,
We take it real whereas it's just a pre-destined fake nap .

Quintessential Love!

Catherine was walking in hurry across the Blue Bay lane. It was the first time she was here. She hardly visits any place. No business called her on this side of the town. Unknown to place and people, she kept stumbling and calling name of her dear Pomo to find him, on which occassion she was out here. Calling out "Pomo! Where are you? Pomo?" at the top of her voice, she still could see him nowhere. All through the noon, she was at one place or the other looking for him. Pomo was a darling to her. "My dear boy" she used to call him. More care than what a friend could bestow; more than what a lover's love could be; more than what a parental affection could be; it was above all. The purest of love which even Adam and Eve could not behold before their fall in the province of Heaven. Pomo was Catherine's lifeline!
After her futile attempts, which for her were a step more and more closer to get hold of her dear, she entertained a thought of going back to home in a full hope of finding Pomo there. She thought may be he'd have returned from his early wanderings. With a jovialness, she goes back the way which she treaded few minutes ago. On the way back home, she saw a food store and decided to take something for his dear buddy. She had but a little money for herself but what could've meant more to her than buying something for her love. She went down the store and came with a big pack of biscuits for him which he loved. And started walking on to her locality.
She was in such a fouse that she didn't even care about her dress being blemished by wet dirty roads. No time she had for anything. Any other care she does not seem to have other than getting to see Pomo near to her. Catherine had no family and no friend in her life. She just had Pomo, on which she bestows all her affection and care; and seek every happiness of this world from him.
Aa soon as she reached her street, she went down to the gate of her house in  hurry, opened the gate and left it ajar. In such a haste manner, she went inside to see if Pomo's there or not. Saw every part of her house but couldn't find him. Looking at every place and not finding him gave her an unpleasant feeling. She, at once, started feeling insecure. All bad things came to her mind regarding Pomo. But no! She avoid all of it at best. But her spirits failed her. And she felt a bitter pinch of worrisomeness. Despite hard resistance to unnatural thoughts, she found herself averted from positivity. Something was dawning on her. She thought "Why am I so uncomfortable? Pomo usually wanders till late and gets back home! But what is it disturbing me and the tranquility of my mind?". She further thought "Why am I being so over-tensed? There is nothing wrong. Then why, I am worried?". "No! No! It's just the train of my thoughts running on a wrong track." - With these words, she thwarted every such terrible thought and tried to maintain a positive eye.
At the very moment, it came into her mind that Pomo might be at his favourite place, the backyard garden. She ran towards the back of the house and passing down the conservatory to the garden at back, anticipating her dear one to be there. The minute she stepped into garden, the food packet which was a delight to Pomo's taste-buds, and the one which she specially brought for him, fell from her hands. And next, she gave a frightened, shrill cry and was in tears. Again, she shrieked and started crying more bitterly. Catherine, with such ocean of love for her "dear boy" who was looking for him, found him lying dead. It was a grave shock for her that it seemed as if she was in a palsy. She went to the spot where Pomo was, all covered in sanguine tincture. It was like as if somebody has poured all the blood on him. His body was lifeless, with no sign of life. Sitting beside that body, her eyes were fixed on it and asking him to wake up. Growling like a werewolf on the full moon night, it seemed her cries could have called the Heavens down on earth. She touched his blooded body and shook it with all force. "Pomo, I am back! Why are you in such a condition? Get up dear. See, I'm back." - all this while, she was moving the body. She was for a moment out of words and expression, when no movement was seen other than her shaking of the lifeless form. Again she started- "Pomo, you can't die! If you ever wanted to die, then why did you became so dear to me so as to leave me alone someday on this desolate place where I have none other than you. Pomo, please get up! Please awake! You know I love you so much. Please come back to me." And this sight could have moved anyone with a stone heart as it had such promising love. This bond between Catherine and Pomo surpassed all possible love exchanges between humans. It was a relation which even crossed species liability. It was a love knot between the pure hearts and souls. The relation between different species as this, does not need a language because it was the language of love which formed this ligature. One, a human being and the other, an animal - this bond broke all limits. And Catherine was full of heavy tears, that she could not hold herself in this dire time.
But suddenly, she felt something rubbed against her face. It felt as if some sticky material was cosing her. She abruptly stood alarmed and found that she was on her bed and her dear Pomo was tickling his tongue over her face as he always use to, so to give her a morning retreat. She shook herself as if she couldn't believe what ever was there in front of her. Realizing that whatever she saw regarding Pomo being dead was nothing but a horrible dream; then heaved a sigh of relief. How comfortable and happy she was to have her  near to herself. She kissed and hugged him so tightly as she'd have never done it. She thanked God. And still with her "dear boy" on her, holded him quite well so to never let him go anywhere. But tears found a way too out of her eyes, accompanying a beautiful smile and glow on her face. This travel between dream and reality caused her a great sorrow but landing on the latter, was evidential for her high spirits again. And finally she and Pomo with that feeling of quintessential love binding no proviso glittered their life and the world around.

Holla Summer!

             

The longest and hottest days belong to thee,
Thou, who augments the effect of spring's verdure show,
Filled of aestival hues your cast remains to be,
Feverishly temperature endlessly you bestow.

The Harbinger you are of Sweating Sickness,
Heling (Covering) the course of four to five months,
Ever you are on the mode of venting Steaminess,
To your name, 'born in summer' or 'who sums' are known puns.

Long anticipation of luscious fruits ends(halts) with your arrival,
Thou always give a way to glide up and down the Summer House,
Winter , who fumes cold airs is considered as your Rival,
Thou promise a long time ; and never you depart in fouse.

The Midsummer Day is always to your acclaimed Credential,
You trample like a dame leaving your presence hence traceable.

God-The Incredible Victor

The  Lord  of  all  realms He is,
Utmost  power  is only His.

Known  to  be  one, but  yet
in  all  He  resides  at  best.

From  zenith  to  the  deep  core,
He  rows  smoothly  with  his  magical  oar.

The  saviour  of  us  all,
He - The  father  of  every  big  and  small.

Synonyms  to  Him  are  infinity,
All  omni-potent  is  thee,  oh  Deity!

Fallen  Lucifer,  the  light - bearer  called  thee 'A  Tyrant',
so  as  to  solace  his  damn  regiment.

By  turning  to  fallen  Angel  and  then  to  a  Serpent,
Satan's  over - powered  sense  of  revenge  does  not  went  under  amendment.

So  much  great  was  your  power  and  is  still  now  and  will  remain  forever,
For  you  are  the  only  binding  truth  in  this  creation  to  ever  dwell  and  to  end, never.

The  Creator  of  Universe  and  beyond,
Thy  Arms  so  largely  stretchened.

Thou  Appearances  extend  from being  worshipped  as  Nile  to  ample  statues  around,
The  'One  in  All'  and 'All  in  One'  you bound.

The  reality  of  truth  starts  from  you  and  ends  on  same,
Thy  potency  cannot  be  at  all  put  in  a  sentence  frame.

To  You,  The  Omni - present, We  pay  the highest  gratitude,
For  the  felicities  of  our  life  which  thou  has  shade.

Divine  your light  and  infinity  your existence  stands,
We, the  mortal  beings, always  to  you  bend.

With  the  multitude  striving  to  learn  depth,
but  oh! What  a  fatal  thing  we  shapeth?

We  are  just  a  grain  of  sand  in contrast  to  You, my  Lord,
In  vain , we  practice  to define  you  in a word.

Uncontrived  is  our  life  and  rough  is  our  art,
Unrefined  are  our  ores  of  which  we  are  part.

Oh  Thou  Almighty! The  masterly  pure  form,
You  are  the  cause  from  gentle  breeze  to  havoc  creating  storm.

The  Great  Seer  is  thee  who  fills  life  in  our  worldly  vehicles; after  death,
out  of  which  only soul  remains  and  bodies  becomes  void  of  breath.

The  fountain  of  your  gracious  look  perennially  flows  on  us,
We  remain  under  your  constant   care  and  are  protected  thus.

The  posterity  of  humans  may  all  undergo  sanctification,
and  be  sparkling  stars  as  celestials  in  your  creation.

Oh  Goodness! Thou  Art  so  divine!
The  one  who  starts  praising  you  feels  so  like  a  blind.

Writing  of  you  and  your   everlasting  potential  is  far  and  far  beyond  our  reach,
Committing  this  act  is  no  less  than  giving  an  incomplete  speech.

With  the  last  few  words,  the  conclusion  thus  becomes
that  your  Might,  cannot from  a  mortal  mouth  come.

The  Omni - benevolent  Victor  bless  us  with  a  moral sense,
which may  make  us  wonder  that  Thou  has  time  to  listen  but  do  we  have  time  to pray?