It had been a long time since killing them was one of his fantasies.
Best of the best, a hunter he was,
Hunting and trapping his prey was like a time-pass.
But hold on if you think birds and animals were the victims,It had been a long time since killing them was one of his fantasies.
This blessed relative of Nimrod searched for something lost which even he did not remember,
But he knew that missing it, he always used to shed a tear.
He did not have friends who’d call up ‘Hey, Hello!’
Like a fool he wandered everywhere alone, trying to eat the fruit of the tree whose seed he never did sow.
He desperately wanted to be with his family- he did not like this world,
Never realizing that the world was his family, devoid of love- his heart felt cold.
Happiness he considered as a treasure buried deep inside the earth,
How he’d find it – he pondered about it sitting by the hearth.
He desired warm affection from a heaven-sent soul mate,
But who was to tell him that he was already too late?
Demands of respect and attention he made,
Books about attaining pride and glory he daily read.
Seeking knowledge and wisdom of ages,
He knocked the door of all sages.
To show others, he gave away his wealth as if not important anymore,
He distributed all his riches among the poor.
He thought he had very good health,
So he always walked in the sun, never sat under a tree’s shade.
He wanted to be at peace somehow,
Stupid man did not know it was not that easy like making a round chapatti from the dough.
Important he wanted to feel,
He wanted someone to take care of his heart- little.
Void of success and fame, he questioned himself,
‘What am I doing wrong? What have I lost?’ – Only the answer could give him relief.
There should have been a miracle in his life,
Like an apple cut without using a knife.
An angel of heaven to help him was one of his mere needs,
Who could show him the right way to gain rewards for his very less number of good deeds.
‘Don’t search for but create’ is the recipe for happiness,
To feel loved, one has to open his heart and not run but wait because love is a beautiful walk, not a dog-eat-dog race.
Attention is received by the one, who deserves it,
Respect is earned if you selflessly feed not eat.
Books give knowledge when read from heart,
Not by painting just to be called a man of art.
Peace can’t be attained anywhere but in God,
But would anyone tell it to the relative of Nimrod?
Life is beautiful, this world is heaven,
The sword will never be mightier than the pen.
If things don’t get right, they’ll at the end,
And if they anyhow don’t, it’s not the end my friend.
If the best of the best, better than the rest, the hunter could have realized that,
He was searching for the right things but not in the right ways and places, he’d not have been so sad.
How will the flower of the never-existing plant bloom?
After doing all that was in his hands, he locked himself up in his room.
He had lost nothing but his own soul to destiny,
You will never reach where you intended to go but where you needed to be- this is the hard and fast guideline of Mr. Fate Uncanny.
The Best Hunter – A Poem By Chandamita Bora http://t.co/zNdUAD4mlv #Poem
— Learning&Creativity (@LearnNCreate) June 26, 2014
