By way of Contrast

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                  By way of Contrast

 

 

Send-off to him, born in the pelf’s domain,

His ancestors marveled in might and main,

Who was pampered and tended with love,

The prized jewel, priced a goldmine above.

 

Send-off to him, he’d lived lavishly at ease,

Free from worldly gruff and pensive pleas,

He cared naught, and walked a snooty way,

The victim of sham, but time held the sway.

 

Bye to him, with his ways of ease and leisure,

Engaged in sport; and the pursuits of pleasure,

A carefree, happy go lucky, the sort of fellow,

Humming tunes about, gleesome and mellow.

 

Curse him, he lived free from worry and woe,

His eyes gleaming, and his visage were aglow,

When a smile played; mingle with his rosy face,

Pearly hues glistened, to add his beauty’s grace!

 

Damn to him; he were a lily bloom and rosy flash,

He were spruce and prim; who wouldst cut a dash,

One singing and dancing, merrily whirling around,

Always poised, aplomb; and the reveler profound.

 

 

 

And welcome to him, he had marked his birth,

With strife; amid raging woe and fading mirth,

Ah his ceaseless essay, to amend suffering lot,

In this world, of rampant wickedness and blot!

 

Welcome, when ambition pulsated in his breast,

And wert buried, howbeit strong were the quest,

He gulped scalding tears, his own thirst appease,

He’d welcomed hellish winds, for gentle breeze. 

 

Good to him; a voussoir, very firm and strong,

He was trampled upon, in the swelling throng,

With all his tears and blood; to the very last bit,

A lighted torch in the dark, he had tried his writ.

 

And greetings to him, he hadst begun to wake,

Sunshine from a flicker, substance from a flake,

In his blazed ayes, the darkness would aptly die,

A glittering flambeau, the ailing world shall eye!

 

Praise him, he’d ached with the burning thought,

The battle against odds, he hadst bravely fought,

Folk had looked up to him, with the fondest eyes,

For the people always, valued him a ageless prize.

 

Admire his youthful cheeks, ever charged with scare,

His carmine lips and wistful eyes, wondrous and rare,

In the depths of despair; he were the honour in place,

The insignia who stood to test of time, with his grace.

Love to him amid misery and wants, he were born,

Ah a rose he was, pampered on a sharpened thorn,

The withered petals; ah his lips didst move and curl,

Whispered the tale of woe, as they did sadly unfurl.

 

Good to him; for he hath trod the thorny path,

Of travails and tears, of abjectness and wrath,

His supple cheeks; ah tanned in sweltering heat,

Seeking refuge ‘neath broken trees; a sad treat!

 

Joy for him; he hath lived in drudgery and pain,

Of every vice and misery; deemed the sole bane,

He played faded hues, and his complexion sallow,

He was a lingering soul, ah his looks wert shallow.

 

Love to him who pondered, his anxious mind,

Aye the poor creature! He wert of such a kind,

Over the darkened horizons he wouldn’t float,

On a mighty sea he was rocked, a broken boat!

 

All excellence to this man, he would soon make,

Ascension to his Lord, swiftly waxing and awake,

Quaffing the ethereal ale; like one joyous guest!

The heavenly bliss hovers, décor of novel quest.

 

Best of wishes, for the men and women alike,

‘Cause this world wert, an iffy and subtle hike,

The path of rectitude, if they wouldst explore,

Shaping sinuosity straight, and ever the more.          



                           By Dr. Riaz Ahmad, March 31, 2026

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