I'm Like That Only Poem by Aniruddha Pathak

Man's not designed perfect to be—
He may strive lesser flawed to be;
Every nut can't be king almond,
Nor can every coal a diamond.
Keeping this in mind, and well,
I'm like that only, I tell.

Nature's not, nor tries to be so,
And there perhaps her beauty lies,
The order of Cosmos is chaos
That endless evolves, gathers gloss;
Nor is science exact, we know,
Imperfections prod men to rise.

Take one, bodily imperfect,
But endowed with keen intellect
To compensate for core defect;
Balance is Nature's known secret.
A man's loved less for what he is,
In spite of the limits of his!

Perfection, where's that utopia?
There's mediocre via media;
Man with a fault or two is made
That, he strives to evolve and rise,
A lifetime he has to earn grade,
Yet, it ends not when in death dies.

Take silicon,
It's more useful when far from pure—
When doped is it with arsenic;
Take Boron,
A marvel electronic,
Holes make it semiconductor more.

Man is not made perfect
In God's creative act
That he rise above his odds,
That he's a defective jade,
But with potential unlimited,
O to surpass heavenly gods.

How odd,
Man should try to be god!
But wait, this is no easy goal,
Lifetimes many it takes there to reach,
So evolves an immortal soul,
And karmic action all so rich!

I am not perfect,
No one is in fact.
It's too odd in this world
To be a perfect bird,
And he's like that only,
So saying, she loves me.
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Tongue-in-cheek | 02.12.06 |