1. DRINKING MY OWN ANGER
I couldn’t hit the earth in my bouts of anger; as it was the one which grew the food
necessary for my survival,
I couldn’t hit the wall in my bouts of anger; as it was the one which sequestered my
scalp against tumultuous storm and rain; it was the one which constituted and
fortified my dwelling,
I couldn't hit the tree in my bouts of anger; as it was laden with the fruits I nibbled in
my times of relish; imparted me with velvety breeze in the sweltering night,
I couldn’t hit the mirror in my bouts of anger; as it magnificently portrayed to me my
pellucid and candid reflection; and doing so I knew would exacerbate the situation
further; would make my own hand bleed,
I couldn’t hit mothers stomach in my bouts of anger; for it was the singular pouch
which had bore me for 9 months unrelentingly; the very sacred sac which was
responsible for my existence today,
I couldn’t hit the snake in my bouts of anger; for it guarded my treasury of wealth
unflinchingly all night and day; and would viciously retort back the instant I raised my
fingers to strike,
I couldn’t hit the Sun in my bouts of anger; for it was the sole source of light which
maneuvered me in the day; lit up my every morning with an enchanting smile,
I couldn’t hit the child in my bouts of anger; for it was all the energy I possessed; was
the sweetest little form of God running gleefully on this earth,
I couldn’t hit the waters in my bouts of anger; for they were the ones who pacified
my thirst several times a day; blended my life with loads of mesmerizing cool and
shade,
I couldn’t hit the silver plate in my bouts of anger; for it was the one in which I
actually consumed my food three times in a day; and insulting it could probably result
in not getting food even three times a year,
I couldn’t hit the car in my bouts of anger; for it was the one which transported me
marathon distances; saw to it that I my feet rested in luxury; as I reached the summit
at whirlwind speeds,
2. I couldn’t hit my beloved in my bouts of anger; as she was the one who transpired me
to live every second; she was the one who took upon herself every affliction to save
me from the tiniest of wound today,
I couldn’t hit my sister in my bouts of anger; as she was the one whom I played with
irrespective of my augmenting age; with whom I shared all my secrets of life;
sometimes woke her even in the middle of the night,
I couldn’t hit my pet dog in my bouts of anger; as he was the one who was the first to
welcome me at ethereal dawn; wag his tail incessantly until the time I took him in my
arms,
I couldn’t hit my eye in my bouts of anger; for it was the only instrument whom I
relied upon to sight this world; and also it would incorrigibly shut tight; as I tried and
approached it with my fist,
I couldn’t hit the century old boat in my bouts of anger; as it was the one on which
my ancestors sailed; the one where my rudimentary roots lay profoundly embedded,
I couldn’t hit the cow in my bouts of anger; as it was the only animal which gave me
sacrosanct milk; impregnated my bones with Herculean strength to take on the
mantle of this entire world,
I couldn’t hit the idol of God in my bouts of anger; as it was the one who had
evolved me and my kin in the first place; would burn me to inconspicuous ash the
moment I irritably hurled my fingers towards his Omnipotent form,
And I couldn’t hit a single thing on this earth; for whatever I hit was something
sacred or something which was intimately dear; something which I possessed or
something which had possessed me for infinite years,
That’s when I decided to wholesomely drink my own anger; whenever I was
infuriated and my body reverberated beyond the point of no control; rather
than unnecessarily victimizing somebody, taking it out on the innocent world.
