Poetry

1. THERE WAS NOTHING WRONG
There was nothing wrong even if I spoke a 1000 lies, if it brought a smile to the
face of the impoverished child,
There was nothing wrong even if I clambered up the mountain slopes well past
midnight, if my expedition ended with God waiting to sequester me in his arms,
There was nothing wrong even if I killed clusters of red ant, if my massacre
saved the life of a sleeping angel,
There was nothing wrong even if I burnt books of revered literature, if the
crackling fires generated thereby imparted warmth to the shivering patient,
There was nothing wrong even if I slapped the bustling youth, if my rebukes
helped them cope better with the acrimonious society,
There was nothing wrong even if I furtively shirked crowds, if my evading them
brought me at whisker lengths close to my beloved,
There was nothing wrong even if I failed miserably in the examination, if my
flunking gave a chance to students more deserving,
There was nothing wrong even if I drove my car like a maniac on the streets, if
my whirlwind speeding transported the unconscious soldier to the hospital,
There was nothing wrong even if I submerged my entire persona in disdainful
grease, if it meant that the fish could swim in pure crystal water,
There was nothing wrong even if I dug the earth several feet with my axe, if my
shoveling extricated the man brutally buried alive,
There was nothing wrong even if I acted like a clown, if my ludicrous gestures
made the gloomy princess wholeheartedly laugh,
There was nothing wrong even if I refrained from sipping a single droplet of
liquid, if my scorching myself gave new life to the withering deserts,
There was nothing wrong even if I reached office late everyday, if my not
arriving on time gave me a chance to hear the sparrows chirp flirtatiously in the
morning,
There was nothing wrong even if I clad myself in a piece of tottered robe, if my
being naked saved that extra bit of cotton for the farmer,

2. There was nothing wrong even if I gulped a barrel full of whisky instead of tea
at dawn, if my mind fantasized about all the goodness, transited into a blissful
slumber thereafter,
There was nothing wrong even if I traversed on a bed of savage thorns, if it
meant that my mother could sleep like a queen on the golden couch,
There was nothing wrong even if I said a blunt no when I could have gone
around in fishy routes, if my being straightforward patronized my honesty,
There was nothing wrong even if I washed my eyes in a pool of blood, if my
bruises could ignite the hearts of all those selfish,
And there was nothing wrong even I had to die Infinite deaths, if each breath of
mine gave birth to a million new, saw to it that life went on and so did you.