Famous Indian Poets written award winning poems on love, friendship, war, beauty poetry.
  Records & Awards
  Contact & Network
 
  Home
  Biography & Media
  Poetry Books
  Poems
 
Thousands of Nikhil Parekh's poems on God, Peace, Love, Brotherhood, Friendship, Humanity, Environment, Anti Terror, Lovers, Life, Death - here. Click on Page Numbers below to read complete poems. Each page has 10 poems. 
 
Search Poetry :    
<< Previous   Next >>
»Today-the most cursed day

 

Ordinarily the soles of my feet didn’t bleed an
infinitesimal trifle; even as I traversed over a
blanket of a billion acrimoniously venomous thorns,
But today; the 3rd of April; they just disdainfully
crumbled an infinite feet beneath soil; as the sound
of your invincibly triumphant and gloriously
impeccable footsteps; had disappeared forever from the
horizons of my veritable sight…


Ordinarily the hair on my skin didn’t relent an
inconspicuous iota; even as the most diabolical of
dinosaurs and war; indiscriminately paraded around my
persona,
But today; the 3rd of April; they just shriveled into
pathetic oblivion at the tiniest insinuation of
flaccid wind; as your uninhibitedly untamed valley of
sensuousness; had disappeared forever from the
horizons of my veritable sight…

Ordinarily the blood in my veins didn’t quaver an
evanescent bit; even as the most unsparingly
hedonistic apocalypses of the devil perpetuated into
my soul,
But today; the 3rd of April; it just metamorphosed
into a grotesquely frigid white; as your brilliantly
unhindered compassion; had disappeared forever from
the horizons of my veritable sight…

Ordinarily the hollows of my ears didn’t flutter an
ethereal inch; even as unbelievably thunderous roars
of vindictive lightening; flashed left; right and
center from the belly of the murderously ballistic
sky,
But today; the 3rd of April; they just miserably
withered to each of my commands; as your inimitably
divinely and beautifully unparalleled voice; had
disappeared forever from the horizons of my veritable
sight…

Ordinarily the bones of my demeanor didn’t rattle an
infidel centimeter; even as the coffins of inevitable
death scurrilously slandered at me a countless times,
But today; the 3rd of April; they just dissolved into
fecklessly meaningless pulp at the sound of my very
own voice; as your Omnipotently everlasting tenacity;
had disappeared forever from the horizons of my
veritable sight…

Ordinarily the whites and blacks of my eye didn’t
wince a mercurial fraction; even as the belligerently
intolerable rays of the afternoon Sun unceasingly
pierced inside from all quarters,
But today; the 3rd of April; they just wholesomely
blinded to the faintest of my reflection; as the
miraculously mitigating contours of your face; had
disappeared forever from the horizons of my veritable
sight….

Ordinarily the cadence of my voice didn’t tremble a
diminutive whisker; even as there was nothing else but
iconoclastically satanic vultures plucking mouthfuls
of my flesh; with gay abandon all throughout the
night,
But today; the 3rd of April; it just transformed into
a cadaverously stony silence; as the Omnipresent smile
of your magical lips; had disappeared forever from the
horizons of my veritable sight…

Ordinarily the spirit of my conscience didn’t stagger
a minuscule hairline; even as the entire planet beside
me embraced manipulative prejudice; to catapult to the
pinnacle of spuriously lackadaisical success,
But today; the 3rd of April; it just dissipated into a
zillion pieces of nothingness even before it could be
caressed; as your trail of perennially blessing
righteousness had disappeared forever from the
horizons of my veritable sight…

Ordinarily the beats of my heart didn’t betray a
parsimonious speck; even as egregiously perverted
treachery had become everyone’s morning cup of tea,
But today; the 3rd of April; they converted entirely
into lifelessly delinquent stone although torrential
rainshowers of love pelted all across; as your
charismatically immortal shadow had disappeared
forever from the horizons of my veritable sight…

And ordinarily the air of my nostrils didn’t stutter
an abstemious ounce; even as the mortuaries of hell
personally descended to incarcerate me into doldrums
of inane nothingness,
But today; the 3rd of April; it evaporated a countless
kilometers beyond the land of decaying oblivion;
although I was impregnated with robust blood; body and
bone; as your pristinely unimpeachable and
Unconquerably mellifluous spirit; had disappeared
forever from the horizons of my veritable sight..


(c) (r) copyright-2004, by nikhil parekh. all rights reserved.
 
»Tomorrows of love

 

Before we even knew the color of our eyes; the
insatiable flurry of dreams vivaciously circulating
through their handsome whites,
Our vision had immortally interlocked with each other;
as we blossomed into a magnificently ravishing dream
which transcended beyond the realms of unsurpassable
eternity….

Before we even knew the cadence in our voice; the
unfathomable myriad of likes and dislikes that
encompassed our visage,
Our sound had immortally interlocked with each other;
as we bloomed into an insurmountable fleet of melody;
absconding euphorically to the farthest corner of this
incredulously gigantic Universe…

Before we even knew the destinies that lay sandwiched
beneath our closed fists; the inexplicable anecdotes
about to confront us head-on in near future,
Our palms had immortally interlocked with each other;
as we unrelentingly escalated as a united wave of
triumph and compassion; caressing each other
perennially amidst the tantalizing conglomerate of
clouds…

Before we even knew the religion we belonged too;
wholesomely oblivious to our fathomless repertoire of
ancestral heritage,
Our names had immortally interlocked with each other;
as we danced under the enchanting moonlight for times
immemorial; while the uncouthly conventional society
manipulatively sucked each other’s blood outside…

Before we even knew the ideas that rhapsodically
conquered our brains; the incomprehensible tunnel of
directions our minds tirelessly ventured,
Our mission had immortally interlocked with each
other; as we unflinchingly surged forward to
accomplish each of our philanthropic dreams;
metamorphose this planet once again into a blissful
paradise…

Before we even knew the contours of our faces; the
gargantuan armory of reasons for which they
uninhibitedly smiled and smirked,
Our lips had immortally interlocked with each other;
tumultuously swirling into the most passionate kiss
ever on this planet; triggering thunderbolts of desire
in miserably dead roots of soil…

Before we even knew the directions in which we were
progressing; the unsurpassable network of paths on
which we liked to explore and tread,
Our footsteps had immortally interlocked with each
other; as we gallivanted exuberantly in an
entrenchment of mesmerizing joy; uplifting our
orphaned mates; to help them reach their ultimate
smile…

Before we even knew the compassion in the breaths that
descended relentlessly from our nostrils; the
seductively enigmatic story hidden in their
boundlessly augmenting aura,
Our lives had immortally interlocked with each other;
as we irrefutably pledged not only to celestially lead
this lifetime; but stay forever coalesced like an
organism and its shadow; for countless more births to
come…

And before we even knew the beats entrapped and
throbbing till eternity in our chests; the unending
ocean of aspirations fulminating more vivaciously than
the Sun outside,
Our romance had immortally interlocked with each
other; as our spirits rose as one well above the
monotonous discrepancies of this barbarically
estranged world; to procreate an infinite more
tomorrow’s of LOVE, LOVE AND ONLY LOVE…

(c) (r) copyright-2004, by nikhil parekh. all rights reserved.
 
»Tones

 

When I spoke to a child; my tone was as innocuous as the nimble and newborn rabbit,

When I spoke to the politician; my tone had profound traces of cunnigness; tinges of skillful imagination blended with each word, When I spoke to the reprimanded burglar; my tone was acrid and harsh; trying to petrify the daylights from his eyes,

When I spoke to the bartender; my tone was voluptuously surreal; demanding him to serve me with delectable pegs of scarlet wine,

When I spoke to the Boss of the Company; my tone was overwhelmingly polite and splendid; flattering him each instant to secure my job,

When I spoke to the taxi driver; my tone was rustic and wandering; instructing him to drift me deep into the hills; poignantly embrace the winds of nature,

When I spoke to the Scientist; my tone had a sea of mysticism and enigma; intriguing him with the dozens of bizarre ideas; circulating rampantly through my mind,

When I spoke to the doctor; my tone radiated with robust and rubicund health; and the air that diffused from my mouth had a piquant odor of raw antiseptic,

When I spoke to the photographer; my tone was enchanting and replete with tumultuous euphoria; enticing him to capture the most mesmerizing of my pose,

When I spoke to the insane terrorists; my tone was barbarically acrid; and I blurted out every possible abuse prevalent on the planet; vehemently condemning them for their scores of misdeeds,

When I spoke to the teacher in the school; my tone was docile and completely submissive; pretending to be a diligent student; when infact I was most mischievous of the entire batch,
When I spoke to those orphaned on the streets; my tone was sympathetic and comforting; earnestly wishing them all the prosperity that ever hung in the air,

When I spoke to the washerman; my tone was as slippery as soap; as I gave him crisp orders to annihilate the last bit of dirt adhering to my shirt,

When I spoke to the man-working deep in the mines; my tone was in the form of a reverberating echo; trying to blast into his ears the same tunes he was used to; all day and night,

When I spoke to the wildly screeching mad man; my tone was sonorous and domineering; trying to pacify all the false apprehensions; taking their toll unnecessarily on his life,

When I spoke to the dog loitering aimlessly on the streets; my tone was a hoarse bark; trying to communicate with him better; in the only language he imbibed and understood,

When I spoke to my beloved; my tone was bubbling with passion and unprecedented exhilaration; as I tried to ignite the flames of my romance; with infinite times the intensity into her persona,

When I spoke to my mother; my tone resembled the boisterous chimpanzee; totally relieved of mundane and worldly tensions,
But when I tried to speak to God; there erupted no tone of mine at all; I stood transfixed and wholesomely mute in front of his divine demeanor; with my head bent in meek obeisance; and my soul drowned in the melody of his omnipotent tone forever...

(c) (r) copyright-2004, by nikhil parekh. all rights reserved.
 
»Tomorrow never comes

 

I will blossom into an island of sparkling newness;
diffusing a river of profusely humanitarian empathy,
But only at the crack of marvelously voluptuous dawn;
tomorrow….


I will ubiquitously waft a wave of irrefutable
righteousness; annihilating every trace of salacious
lechery entrapped within my persona,
But only at the first rays of ethereal Sunrise and
beauty; tomorrow….

I will diligently assimilate all principles of
holistically sagacious life; spawn into an eternal
flower of uninhibited mankind,
But only at the primordial unfurling of brilliantly
royal morning and cheer; tomorrow….

I will flamboyantly march towards the most bedazzling
targets of tranquility; incinerating the candle of
humanity in every household besieged with miserably
asphyxiating darkness,
But only at the unraveling of timeless sunshine and
rhapsody; tomorrow….

I will exuberantly race towards the ravishingly
tantalizing finishing line; wholeheartedly embracing
every cloud of philanthropically glittering success,
But only at the unveiling of silken light and
heavenly boisterousness; tomorrow….

I will enthusiastically adore every benevolently
animate and inanimate entity; with profound empathy in
my impeccable soul,
But only at the whispering of scintillating morning
and exhilaration; tomorrow……

I will compassionately blaze into a perennial fireball
of titillating seduction; magnificently enamoring all
nubile maidens of my dreams,
But only at the fulminating of crusading brightness
and patriotism; tomorrow….

I will dance with unprecedented euphoria under the
blanket of resplendent stars; unequivocally surging
forward with my comrades in the voice of unflinching
existence,
But only at the commencement of bountifully mystical
light and ecstasy; tomorrow….

I will rhetorically encapsulate all fathomless
artistry lingering in the spell binding atmosphere; on
the vivacious kaleidoscope of my barren canvas,
But only at the evolution of vibrant illumination and
enchantment; tomorrow…..

I will celestially uplift all those bereaved and
gruesomely orphaned children; towards the corridors of
gloriously unsurpassable happiness,
But only at the approaching of immaculately white
light and poignant newness; tomorrow…..

I will wholesomely emancipate from even the most
infinitesimal of evil; shrugging every iota of
ludicrously pathetic delinquency from my countenance,
But only at the shimmering of optimistic light and
romantic fragrance; tomorrow…..

I will ebulliently party with all my mates in
inscrutably traumatizing pain and withering;
blissfully maneuvering them towards the footsteps of
Omniscient prosperity,
But only at the very first chirp of the melodious
cuckoo and dynamism; tomorrow…..

I will flirtatiously wink behind the gorgeously Sun
soaked gorges; innocuously reminiscing my most revered
moments as a child in the sacrosanct lap of my mother;
But only at the rising of Orange light in the cosmos
and torrentially endless life; tomorrow….

I will profusely write countless lines of
aristocratically Oligarchic literature; entrenching
every bit of fabulously serene beauty of this
gigantic Universe,
But only at the unfolding of enthralling scintillation
and incredulous transpiration; tomorrow,

I will amicably sequester one and all under my
spotless roof; wipe the tears of all those
disastrously maimed and sprouting with spurious
richness alike,
But only at the radiating of miraculously Omnipotent
morning and dewdrops; tomorrow…..

I will condone all those who I might previously
penalized for inadvertent fallacies of theirs;
commence my humble expedition to metamorphose this
planet into a perpetual paradise,
But only at the holy shimmering of dazzling light and
golden honey; tomorrow…..

I will indefatigably pray with all my heart; soul and
conscience; for God to bless all those mothers having
unfortunately lost their children at war,
But only at the nascent unfurling of vividly
astounding brightness and melodious tranquility;
tomorrow….

I will unrelentingly dedicate each beat of my
passionately palpitating heart; every instant of my
beleaguered life to the service of unassailably
wonderful and godly mankind,
But only at the ripening of Omnipresently healing
Sunrise and limitless enthrallment; tomorrow….








And so poor man; he loitered and worthlessly killed a
countless today’s waiting for a tomorrow that never
came; and would never ever come; as it profoundly
abhorred people who wasted their majestically
sparkling present; dreaming of an unfathomably
uncertain future; which only God had the right to
preside and decide...



(c) (r) copyright-2004, by nikhil parekh. all rights reserved.
 
»Too romantic is too good

 

Too sad is too bad; as it wholesomely annihilates traces of
exuberant energy from every domain of the body,

Too mysterious is too bad; as it imprisons a boundless myriad of
explosive emotions deep within the fast diminishing soul,

Too angry is too bad; as it baselessly assassinates all the
prudent sagaciousness lingering in your ingenious mind,

Too shy is too bad; as it indefatigably tries to conceal the
truly flamboyant identity of a man,

Too dirty is too bad; as the obnoxiously hovering germs
pertinently conflicted with the process of blossoming ebullience,

Too starved is too bad; as the unprecedented pangs of hunger in
the stomach decimate all chances of plunging forward euphorically,

Too fast is too bad; as the Almighty Lord's mesmerizing process
of evolution remains incomplete,

Too morbid is too bad; as it pulverizes the island of
overwhelming bliss into wisps of treacherous nothingness,

Too smart is too bad; as it disdainfully kills the immaculate
child perpetually floating in your crystalline eyes,

Too dependant is too bad; as it ruthlessly rips apart your
dynamic integrity from its very indomitable roots,

Too hysterical is too bad; as it makes you uncouthly mute to
sorrow; during the course of your future life to unveil,

Too negative is too bad; as it pathetically massacres the wave of
irrefutable optimism immortally enveloping your righteous conscience,

Too manipulative is too bad; as it drifts you further and further
away from the insurmountably sacrosanct lap of your revered mother,

Too nervous is too bad; as it foments you to commit blunders in
things; which you could have irrevocably owned above the rest,

Too wealthy is too bad; as it perpetuates you to become savagely
oblivious to your intrinsic rudiments of existence,

Too powerful is too bad; as it engenders you to suck the blood of
your fellow compatriots; whom God had created you equal with,

Too malicious is too bad; as it relentlessly coaxes you to hate
every entity possessing a shade more than you,

Too suspicious is too bad; as it triggers you to relinquish and
betray the everlasting love of your life,

Too punctual is too bad; as it diabolically snaps apart the
uncanny excitement descending every unfurling instant; as you walked
on the streets.

But being too romantic is too good; as it makes you feel alive
beyond your own self; as it makes you feel alive for the most
fulfilling mission for which God sent you upon on planet earth…

(c) COPYRIGHT-2004, BY NIKHIL PAREKH. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
 
»Tools

 

I had a fantasy to write prolifically; inundate every space of bonded
paper
with exquisite literature,
The only tools I had were my knotted fingers; a labyrinth of impeccable
tunnels in my brain; to pen down the lines; transform my dream into
tangible
reality.

I had a fantasy to clamber Mount Everest; reach its Herculean summit
suspended
in thin wisps of clouds,
The only tools I had were my strong legs; an overwhelming tenacity in
my mind
to set my foot on the coveted peak.

I had a fantasy to swim amidst the swirling waves; relish the pungent
spray of
the ocean splashing across my cheek,
The only tools I had were my muscular arms; the exhilaration in my body
propelling me to surge forward.

I had a fantasy to scratch scintillating crusts of gold; from the
mammoth
chain of underground rocks,
The only tools I had were my incongruously extruding nails; the
pertinence in
my persona to keep peeling; till I found that incorrigible glow.

I had a fantasy to drink frosty milk; sip the unadulterated elixir with
great
relish painstakingly down my throat,
The only tools I had were my articulate fingers to extract the same
from
mother cow; alongwith a canister to fill the same as it oozed out.

I had a fantasy to smell the stupendously exotic; drown in its
fragrance for
times immemorial,
The only tools I had were the incredibly red and redolent rose; a pair
of
supremely sensitive nostrils; drawn inevitably towards the flower.

I had a fantasy to ride on the majestic lion; caress my hands nimbly
through
the beasts nape,
The only tools I had were a stick impregnated with tanned leather;
loads of
unprecedented and daunting courage enveloping my demeanor.

I had a fantasy to plummet head on from the aircraft; fly uninhibitedly
in the
galaxy of resplendent stars; before reaching the earth,
The only tools I had were conventional strings of the parachute
strapped to my
back; astronomical amounts of resilience in my countenance; to descend
like an
angel from the heavens.

I had a fantasy to voraciously read through a library of books;
profusely
blend with the history of medieval times,
The only tools I had were my insatiable ability to imbibe; crystalline
and
emphatic eyes bestowed upon me by the creator.

I had a fantasy to listen to enchanting music; drift myself wholesomely
towards the most mesmerizing and melodious tunes,
The only tools I had were insurmountable patience to wait for the
nightingale
to open its beak; hollow spaces of my eardrum to assist me grasp the
rhapsody
in the sound.

And I had fantasy to philander in the aisles of ravishing romance; burn
passionately in the flames of immortal love and desire,
The only tools I had were my mightily pounding heart; and my impeccable
yet
enchanting beloved.


(c) (r) copyright-2004, by nikhil parekh. all rights reserved.
 
»Torturous Ghost

 

Neither could I feel the tiniest iota of thirst; Neither could I feel even an inconspicuously ethereal sensation in my lifelessly fetid skin,

Neither could I experience the slightest ounce of pain; Neither could I perceive the most remotest definition of spell-binding fantasy in my dolorously deadened brain,

Neither did I have the most transiently vanishing of desire; Neither did I feel it the slightest that I was indefatigably walking on the trajectory of this earth; greedily relishing the acrimoniously unsavory midnight,

Neither did I posses the most obfuscated of integrity; Neither did I bleed an infinitesimal trifle; even when stabbed with an infinite million knives of the rampaging devil,

Neither could I be seen by living beings celestially breathing alive; Neither could I be sighted by even the most amorphously non-existent of satanically vanquishing entities,

Neither did I exist on holistically succulent food and water; Neither did I consume even an ounce of air for times and centuries immemorial,

Neither could I procreate my own progeny; Neither did I have even the most oblivious trace of sibling; who could address me by my meaningless name,

Neither could I ever try and express myself; Neither did I let even the most cloistered spectrum of expression escape from the heart of this fathomless planet,

Neither did I ever rise even a pathetic centimeter from my grave a boundless feet beneath mud; Neither could the most contemporary super-powers of the world harm even a whisker of my wantonly blundering soul,

Neither did I smile a fraction in the tenure of my life; Neither did an emotional tear ever escape from the whites and blacks of my eye; for a countless more births of mine,

Neither could the greatest of philosophers and saints ever understand me; Neither did the most invisible of flame rise in the sky even after I was brutally and wholesomely burnt alive,

Neither did I relent the slightest to the most abhorrently demoralizing of abuse; Neither did I posses even the most evanescent shadow of a conscience and the elements of truth,

Neither did I dissipate into a billion pieces when fed into the lethal grinding machine; Neither was I born out of any mother or father on the soil of this unflinchingly adventurous Universe,

Neither did I reminisce upon my past; present and future; Neither did the advancing of age have the most mercurial of impact upon my persona; as I towered taller than the tallest of mountains; even on my 1 millionth birthyear,

Neither did I have even the most ephemeral droplet of blood circulating through my veins; Neither did I have flesh at all; as every ingredient of my body was a ghoulishly assassinated and sacrilegious skull,

Neither was I ever successful in sighting my reflection; Neither could anybody ever get the most fugitive innuendo of my inhabitation; even though I galloped taller than the skies; in brilliantly unfettered daylight,

Neither did I have the most stingily decrepit of virility; Neither did I let even the most disappearing dimension of newness ever proliferate till limitless kilometers around me,

Neither had I the most obsolete cognition of literacy; Neither did I use my feet to move; as I lay suspended like a unabashedly wastrel scarecrow from the hell of sky; painstakingly crawling my way down the ladders of unimaginable devastation,

Neither could I ever glisten in the pink of mesmerizing health; Neither did I give the most inane chance to the chapters of righteousness; to perpetuate into the mortuaries of my unfathomably deathly deliriousness,

Neither did I breathe an infidel trifle till the time earth veritably existed and even beyond; Neither did any heart throb in my chest; as all that my body was composed of; was nothing but the pathetically diabolical gallows of death,











But if there was indeed one thing that I perennially loved to do; that was to scare the guts out of the last bone of your spine in blazing daylight; that was to asphyxiate you to such a death that even death would tremble to define; that was to render you forever and ever and ever in the coffin of nothingness; that was to make you realize that if you indeed believed in the Omnipotent Lord Almighty; it was simply because of me the “TORTUROUS GHOST” who couldn’t be defeated by anyone else; but the voice of the Divine…


©®COPYRIGHT-2004, BY NIKHIL PAREKH. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
 
»Torture

 

They made me sit on ugly bare current chair,
clasped my hands with rusty iron wire,
strangled my neck with metal plaster,
dragged my feet in boiling effluent,
tore my scalp with steel toothed combs,
pierced my nail in halves with knife,
coated my face with acidic tar,
broke my nose with gruesome fist blows,
stitched my lips with needle and thread,
engraved designs on flesh with rusty pins,
severed bunch of veins with carpenter saw,
divested me of water for long hours,
enclosed my face in jute bags,
containing an army of African wild rat,
whipped me with leather skin dipped in salt curry,
unclothed me in the chilly night,
sprayed obnoxious petrol with large hosepipes,
punctured my features to look like a ghost,
left me hanging in dangling chains,
in dilapidated comforts of crumbling roof,
i then lost faith in the reigning creator,
who put blood in my flesh, pumped oxygen in my chest,
which now converted into complete shambles,
agony groans echoing through walls of confinement,
my eyes finally closed in submission,
ending the ordeal, sealing bleeding pores of my body.


(c) (r) copyright-2004, by nikhil parekh. all rights reserved.
 
»Touch

 

When I dared to touch the fiery and pugnacious ball of Sun; I got instantly electrocuted,
All the animate cells in my body got mercilessly charred; and I was decimated to a residue of finely chiseled black powder.

When I inadvertently touched acid bubbling in the dark crucible; my hands were rendered lifeless by the impact,
Loud screams of anguish echoed from my mouth; water globules rolled down my cheek; as I possessed insipid capacity to bear the pain.

When I touched red chili sprouting from the soil with my hands; there was a disdainful rash that spread on my skin,
Sizzling currents of electricity rain down my spine; succeeded by a feeling of sudden blindness in my eyes; as some of it had managed to enter the same.

When I touched bare wires of light with the rain pelting down; my body shook like a torrential volcano,
The conglomerate of my teeth chattered incessantly; and I fell down on the ground unconscious; inaudibly crying for water.

When I touched frozen ice strewn in abundance on slopes of the colossal mountain range; I felt my blood slightly freeze,
My hands went partially numb with sheer inability to move; and there was no sensation even when I punctured them with hot needles.

When I touched the aromatic elixir of petrol; there arose a deplorable stench in the air,
I was soon battling for life; encompassed in entirety by hostile flames; as someone in vicinity had alighted a matchstick.

When I gently touched the serrated green skin of the alligator; mistaking it for a jeweled fantasy island,
The beast made no mistakes; instead scrupulously dismantled my flesh from bone; before devouring me as a relishing meal.

When I touched wild blades of African grass standing tall at the equator; I felt inevitable sensations of itching besieging my persona,
Blotches of red soon enveloped my innocuous face; small rivulets of blood trickled down; as an aftermath of the raw scratching.

When I touched strongly blended white adhesive paint; presuming it to be frosty milk,
My palms irrevocably stuck to the concoction; and inspite of Herculean effort from my side; I was simply unable to free my grip.

And eventually when I touched her lips; wound my arms around her in an air tight embrace;
All my obstacles seemed to be vanquished; it was as if I was in the middle of a grandiloquent reverie; with the bond of our love growing perpetually stronger; as the minutes unleashed.
 
»Trace of adulteration

 

Floating specks of dirt occupied drinking water,
paltry amounts of venom seemed abundant in gelatin
capsule,
the tribal liquor had extracts of sedative nicotine,
sliding door of luxury car contained an impurity of
threadbare plastic,
polished chunks of pure marble had reinforcements of
loose mud,
rich granules of food grain were blended with sharp
glass and stone,
navy blue solution of carbon ink was filled partially
with chalk,
glossy sheets of milled paper possessed tinges of raw
jute,
100 percent mixture of concrete had mammoth amounts of
burnt brick,
gallons of consumable milk was adulterated with tap
water,
finely ironed currency note lived in harmony with its
fake counterpart,
natural sea water developed traces of oil and thick
grease,
round biscuits of gold reflected sparse territories of
faded bronze,
meticulously printed ancient literature was remixed to
music album,
fertile clay mud resembled a vast assemblage of strewn
insecticide,
winter caves with drooping icicles were displayed in
exhibitions,
plastic exteriors of the monsoon raincoat had
invisible patches of colored
cloth,
a cluster of hybrid mango tasted like acid when
dissolved in salivary bud,
there was inflation prevalent in all quarters of
global society,
the only thing it was unable to imprison,
was the heart pumping at full speeds, nestling in
chamber rooms of true
conscience.



(c) (r) copyright-2004, by nikhil parekh. all rights reserved.
 
 
<< Previous   Next >>