one ripe, perfect height, perfect width, but spiced densely,
one bite, and the mouth seeks buckets of water,
one gulp, one is refreshed, and one’s mouth is ready for another bite,
one after another, his mind sends him aloof, as greed and desire, controls his every action,
the poets conscience is lost,
one soon feels strong remorse,
one’s stomach begins playing a tune, as muffled voices are heard pleading for help before wails are heard…
another chilli, soon to be ripe but yet aesthetically pleasing reflecting vigour with its sharp tail, but this time, the chilli is sweet as can be?
another bite, and another taste, as the tongue is enchanted,
another uncontrollable bite, and the chilli already short in supply runs out as it becomes available, no more…
the final chilli, hidden in the far corners, in the pits no hand will want to reach, perhaps even undesired, it’s future unknown? but to ones shock…
the chilli gives wholesome flavours of both sweetness and spice, the perfect split,
the chilli gives a beautiful taste with no post ramifications and yet, still in abundance?
the poet questions, was this the chilli he ought to have chosen first as it was held first in cold youthful hands,
the poet later questions, why is he still not choosing it in lieu of the others? Is there still time to; or is that time lost, time forever gone…
Sardar Simranjeet Singh
‘Love is like a piece of bread,
Without which hunger doesn’t go.’
Sardar Mohan Singh
‘Man is child of God. He is mortal when he indemnified himself with the perishable world and body. He can become immortal through Union with God; until then he wanders in the darkness of the world.
He is like a spark from the fire or a wave of the ocean. The individual comes forth from God, is always in Him as a partial expression of His will and at last, when he becomes perfect, manifest God’s will perfectly.’
S. Radhakrishan
(The Sacred Writings of The Sikhs)
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