The mosque of my creator

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THE MOSQUE OF MY CREATOR 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”.


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