The Mosque Of My Creator Poem by Nikhil Parekh

I saw it everyday from my window; profoundly admiring its magnificent spires towering supremely high towards the sky,

I stared at it unrelentingly for marathon hours; meticulously absorbing its stupendous grandeur; the shimmering steps that led to the shrine,

I dreamt about it all throughout the night; fantasizing incessantly about blending my life with the omnipotent aura it generated,

I indefatigably counted the number of devotees entering its sacrosanct chambers; prayed to the creator to satisfy all that they had ever wanted,

I clasped both my hands in meek submission; knelt down on my toes to wholesomely drown in the sounds of melodiously jingling b bells,

I snapped countless photographs of it with my contemporary camera; capturing its alluring charm in poignantly brilliant sunlight; as well as under placid rays of the Silver moon,

I kissed its floor passionately; stood for fathomless days on the trot in front of its Divine idol; lost in the eternal ramifications which continuously radiated,

I spoke about it to every stranger I encountered; trying to spread its immortal magic in as many individuals who were thoroughly oblivious to its enchanting spirit,

I tried to perceive it in the most wonderful form that was ever conceivable; epitomizing its marvelous beauty to the pinnacle of my incomprehensible imagination,

I cleaned its ambience umpteenth number of times in a day with austere antiseptic; ensuring that the even the last particle of obnoxious dust was completely annihilated from its very roots,

I studied tirelessly in its incredulously cool interiors; letting the waves from the sagacious deities overwhelmingly illuminate and cleanse my mind,

I benevolently donated large sums of money; provided all that I could to appease the diabolical hunger of the tyrannized urchins aimlessly sobbing around its periphery,

I perspired like a bull in front of its gate; amicably welcoming all who wanted to pay homage to the Gods,

I sprinkled perfumed water on the idols every dawn; embellished each statue embedded inside with a resplendently fragrant festoon of lotus flowers,

I embossed infinite lines of enigmatic poetry every unleashing minute; in my modest attempt to portray its Omniscient essence all throughout the colossal globe,

I tied a bunch of pious threads on my fist; disseminated the same along with sacred vials containing ash to scores of followers thronging its territories every hour,

I intractably refrained to erase it from my memory; even when I left its premises embarking on a voyage for transient instants of time,

I didn't spend even a single second in the day without cognizing its spell binding beauty; inexorably stimulating every iota of my brain to serve the Almighty in the best possible way,

And yet when I got up from my sleep in the sunny morning; the very first thing that I did even before splashing water on my face; was to add a pinch of its holy dust to my eyes; visit the most adorable and revered "MOSQUE OF MY ALLAH, THE MOSQUE OF MY CREATOR".