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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. 
 
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»The Child of the Lord

 

Child of the Omnipotently everlasting Sun; was the
gloriously ecstatic and flamboyantly pristine ray,

Child of the blissfully voluptuous cloud; was the
ecstatically mesmerizing and seductively fragrant
globule of water,

Child of the enchantingly exotic lotus; was the
ever-pervading meadow of celestially bountiful and
spell binding fragrance,

Child of the enigmatically proliferating forest; was
the panoramically motley entrenchment of; vividly
uninhibited nature and philandering animal,

Child of the ardently towering mountain; was the
indomitably united civilization of brilliantly
unfettered strength,

Child of the resplendently milky moon; was the
fantastically fathomless pond of euphorically
twinkling shine,

Child of the innovatively blessed mind; was the
untamed whirlpool of rapaciously surreal and joyously
unblemished dreams,

Child of the seductively clandestine night; was the
unparalleled cavern of impregnably unending and
fascinatingly miraculous sensuousness,

Child of the insuperably true artist; was the timeless
wind of magically bestowing and eternally fructifying
poetry,

Child of the unflinchingly altruistic soldier; was the
sword of unassailably scintillating and pricelessly
inimitable patriotism,

Child of the infallibly unrelenting optimism; was the
unshakably undaunted epitome of astoundingly redolent
and perpetually blossoming success,

Child of the vibrantly soaring butterfly; was the
jubilantly emollient and majestically radiant hill of
mystically ingenious frolic,

Child of the uncontrollably fluttering shadow; was the
abysmally tranquil cave; of enticingly glorious and
bounteously benign mysticism,

Child of the immutably egalitarian mirror; was the
arrow of perennially spawning and limitlessly
invincible righteousness,

Child of the royally embossed lexicon; was the
astonishingly eclectic treasurehouse of convivially
perspicacious and pragmatically opulent words,

Child of the ingratiatingly princely breath; was the
chapter of unconquerably sparkling and iridescently
tireless life,

Child of selflessly bonding symbiotism; was the
philanthropically undefeatable religion of pricelessly
benign and rhapsodically heavenly humanity,

Child of the insatiably thundering heart; was the
victorious paradise of fathomlessly abounding and
immortally divine love,

And Child of the Omnipresently Almighty Lord; was the
inscrutably stupefying shell of this entire Universe;
on which organism of every size; shape and color for
him was wonderfully alike; on which he holistically
coalesced one and all in the mantra of mankind; on
which he showered love; love and only endless love; on
which he fearlessly paraded as the Ultimate master for
times till even beyond infinite infinity; and till the
moment he liked…

(c) (r) copyright-2004, by nikhil parekh. all rights reserved
 
»The chapter of vibrant life

 

At times a river of sensuously everlasting happiness;
while at times an inexplicable thorn stabbing you with
pints of traumatized anguish,

At times a mesmerizing cloud of blossoming prosperity;
while at times an incorrigible impediment engendering
you to preposterously stagger towards the aisles of
hopelessness,

At times a fountain of unbelievable resplendence;
while at times testing you against the most
horrendously ominous storms; which unrelentingly
seemed to have not the slightest of respite,

At times a euphorically surging bird flapping in the
realms of ebullient jubilation; while at times
inevitably making you trip towards the dungeons of
frantically bizarre desperation,

At times a melodiously enchanting song placating even
the most murderously diabolical of your nerves; while
at times asphyxiating your visage; with precarious
testaments of painstaking perseverance,

At times an ultimate harbinger of celestial peace;
while at times marauding your brain with a boundless
mountain of; compulsively crippling thoughts and
prejudice,

At times a waterfall of voluptuously seductive glory
titillating you till times beyond eternity; while at
times an ominous maelstrom of intractable difficulty;
penalizing you from every ostensible side,

At times a thunderbolt of ingenious innovation; while
at times a disastrously insane wastrel; infiltrating
you with daggerheads of insipidly debilitating
nothingness,

At times a garden of stupendously enthralling
vivaciousness; while at times an unsparingly acrid
blade that menacingly greeted you; at every step that
you transgressed,

At times a gorgeously enthralling paradise of
bestowing scent; while at times an assiduously testing
examination of the severest of odds; making you wither
into a penurious shadow of disdainful remorse and
neglect,

At times an ecstatic whirlpool of rejuvenating
freshness entirely metamorphosing the complexion of
your abominably bedraggled life; while at times a
corpse of baseless tensions; depriving you of even the
most infinitesimal wink of sleep,

At times an irrefutably triumphant medallion of
blazing victory; while at times insidiously lambasting
you with swords of monotonously mundane commercialism
and abhorrent malice,

At times the most candidly blissful reflection of your
impeccable soul; while at times tumultuously besieging
your entire countenance; with heinously incarcerating
beads of impeding sweat,

At times the tantalizingly exotic carpet of the
gregariously twinkling night; while at times a
vociferously crumbling sea of disparaging despair;
viciously hurtling you from your most unequivocally
consolidated place in pragmatic existence,

At times a mountain of unconquerably Herculean
strength safeguarding you against the most
treacherously salacious evil; while at times an
inscrutable cistern of black magic; invidiously
transforming your every wish into a mirage of
meaninglessness,

At times an unassailable inferno of divine
righteousness transcending you above the most
immaculate angels in fathomless sky; while at times a
savagely tyrannical panther; instilling in you an
insatiably unending flame of lecherous greed,

At times the most priceless elixir to ebulliently
bounce in every instant of rhapsodic survival; while
at times vengefully slapping you with whirlwinds of
defeat; staring with uncouth barbarism in your
innocent eyes,

At times a resplendently robust fruit culminating into
rays of revitalizingly Omnipotent hope; while at times
more slippery than the surreptitiously perilous eel;
triggering you to plummet headon on a snake of
slithering nonchalance,

And at times an immortal bonding of existence
bountifully coalescing you with all those whom you
pricelessly loved; while at times more sardonically
bitter than venom could ever have tasted; such was the
vacillating chapter of vibrant life….

©®copyright-2004, by nikhil parekh. All rights reserved.
 
»The Cold Blooded Rock

 

The chain of black stretched all over,
The pointed surfaces; the leading of suicidal death,
The tedious climb encircled by emotionless faces,
All of which have a maniacal look,
Abraded exteriors of rock possess shining faces,
Spreading waves of savage delight and brutal splendour,
Trapping innocent prey in their vice like grip.

The air mightily pounds on its surface,
Removing small chunks of graphite powder,
Transporting loose pieces of stone down the valley,
Leaking inside the comfort houses of several ant and white rabbit.

Hollow crevices in the rock are filled with crusty liquid,
Growing in stature by the advancing day,
Bubbling in nervous energy imparted by sheltered warmth,
At last gushing out in frenzy,
Forming volatile springs of boiling lava,
Assassinating possible signs of life in several kilometers of vicinity.
 
»The Common factor

 

I was as hot as blistering fire; while she was stoical as placid ice,

I was ready to plunge into the unfathomably deep gorge; while she preferred to lie down in contentment on the silken mattress,

I was crimson red in anger when provoked; while she maintained a moon white complexion even when tormented to bizarre limits,

I was thirsty every unfurling second; while she was abstemious; able to sustain a marathon period on bland chunks of bread and water,

I was bubbling with tumultuous exhilaration to clamber Mount Everest; while she sat cross-legged on the floor; passive and unperturbed,

I was incessantly fantasizing about enigmatic tunes prevailing under the deep sea; while she preferred to brood in perpetual solitude,

I was floating high and handsome in the cotton wool of clouds; while she was more inclined towards browsing through books of commercial finance,

I was inevitably fidgeting about dismantling intricate bells in vicinity; while she languished in the same position for days; without causing the slightest ruffle on the pillow she caressed,

I was tearing food with exuberant gusto; pulverizing succulent grapes into fine juice with my teeth, while she inhaled the aroma of wine for infinite minutes; before eventually savoring it down her throat,

I was passionately dying to bathe in the rain; while she was abhorrent to the most minuscule sound of thunder; relishing the safety of the shower instead; with a plastic cap engulfing her head,

I was driven by waves of impetuousness every dawn; marching at electric speeds in my quest to conquer the planet, while she woke up after the world had arisen; suckling warm tea in the camouflage of her flocculent sheepskin,
I was chucking at every mosquito trying to infiltrate into my blissful eardrum; while she let them feast on her tantalizing blood; shrugging them off phlegmatically every once in a while,

I was busy contemplating about every individual I encountered; trying to decode through vagaries of his mind, while she sat like an impeccable sheep in front of strangers; more intent on appeasing him than unveiling the cadence of his voice,

I was ardently waiting to capsize upon every opportunity; to consolidate it into a veritable reality; while she let the weeks slip into fortnights; relying overwhelmingly on destiny to deliver,

I was stupendously confident in my abilities to tackle any barricade that confronted me in my way; while she was too meek to envisage as well as bear the slightest of difficulty,

I was burning in the aisles of desire as every draught of wet wind blew past my silhouette, while she let seasons come and go; refrained from igniting the sparks of romance between our entities,

I was philandering in the playground of fun; mischievously intermingling with the children playing on mushy grass; while she knelt stern and tight-lipped on the couch; scoffing disdainfully at the unruly noises made by our child,

I was always found transgressing the roads with wild curls of my hair blowing in tandem with the wind; while she drained the shampoo to the last drop; vigorously sorting the most infinitesimal of knot in her hair,

We were different in almost every thing we did; perhaps perceived all situations circumventing our bodies wholesomely antagonistic; but at the end of the day the COMMON FACTOR was; that we still loved each other; prayed unrelentingly to the creator to give us the power; of relinquishing our breaths together.


(c) (r) copyright-2004, by nikhil parekh. all rights reserved.
 
»The Color of my cheeks

 

The color of my cheeks was whiter than the innocuous
Moon; when I just got up from sleep with the first
rays of ethereal dawn,

The color of my cheeks was more crimson than the
poignant rose; when the girl of my surreal dreams;
flirtatiously glimpsed at my countenance,

The color of my cheeks was a morbid yellow; when I was
enveloped by the ominous swirl of ghastly fever,

The color of my cheeks was a tangy blue; as I reached
the shores after swimming voraciously for marathon
hours in the vivaciously salty ocean,

The color of my cheeks was a mischievous chocolate
brown; after I rhapsodically trespassed through a
slippery slurry of mud; and the rain thunderously
pelting down,

The color of my cheeks was a brilliantly shimmering
yellow; after I stood for gigantic hours under the
sweltering midday Sun,

The color of my cheeks was an incorrigible pink; as I
entered my dwelling after spending countless hours
sandwiched between colossal slabs of raw ice,

The color of my cheeks was a sparkling golden; after I
scrubbed them voraciously with stringently pungent
cakes of fat antiseptic,

The color of my cheeks was blacker than the deplorable
coal mines; when I starved myself for weeks on the
trot; sat in an obsolete corner sequestered
wholesomely from the outside world,
The color of my cheeks was an overwhelmingly ashen
grey; as I heard the news of the ship sinking; the
treacherous tale of my compatriots losing their lives
under cold water,

The color of my cheeks was greener than the curled
grass; when I sat under the placid shade of the tree;
with its astronomically foliate branches flooding my
senses with rejuvenated fervor,

The color of my cheeks was more transparent than the
scintillating mirror; when I was in a mood to convey
the most surreptitious of thoughts candidly,

The color of my cheeks was a fiery red; when I marched
forward in volatile anger; vindictively resolving to
teach my erring adversary the lesson of his life,

The color of my cheeks was more blended than a
rainbow; when a battalion of girls kissed them; all
embellished with myriad textures of swanky lipstick,

The color of my cheeks was a trifle hazy; as I freshly
passed out through the conglomerate of puffy clouds,

The color of my cheeks was a pathetic violet; as I
consumed frugal amounts of venom; to gently experience
the process of extinction,

The color of my cheeks was pragmatically normal; when
I intensely concentrated on my work; paid heed to
nothing else but the process called practical and
routine life,

The color of my cheeks was celestially heavenly; when
I had just taken birth; exhaled my first breath on
this mesmerizing planet,

And the color of my cheeks disappeared in entirety;
floating like an inconspicuous thread into remote
oblivion; as I breathed my last; as I was buried
fathomless feet in my grave after being declared
dead….



(c) (r) copyright-2004, by nikhil parekh. all rights reserved.
 
»The Creator was present in each heartbeat of Immortal Love…

 

Neither was he solely of the intransigently sermonizing Christian; tirelessly prostrating infront of the magnificently embellished idol of ‘Jesus Christ’,

Neither was he solely of the fanatically resolute Muslim; who indefatigably immersed himself all night and day; into the sacred literature of the ‘Quran-e-Sharif’,

Neither was he solely of the nimble bodied Hindu; who intractably chanted the name of ‘Rama’ an infinite times; in a single unabashedly simpleton minute,

Neither was he solely of the altruistically renounced monk; who sat till the absolute end of infinity; infront of the impeccably white statue of ‘Gautam Buddha’,

But; the Omnipotent Almighty Creator was perennially present in every ingredient of blood; which belonged to all those who ubiquitously disseminated and forever bonded with the spirit of Immortal Love….

1…

Neither was he solely of the irrevocably faithful Christian; who let a boundless opportunities in his life go astray; if they insidiously transgressed against the scriptures of his God,

Neither was he solely of the timelessly kneeling Muslim; who wasn’t prepared to leave the insuperable walls of his Mosque; renouncing every worldly pleasure of glorious existence,

Neither was he solely of the selflessly robed Hindu; who never went even an infinitesimal whisker against his stringent culture and tradition; who slept; ate and prayed only on the deserted steps of the quaint temple,

Neither was he solely of the nomadic Buddhist; who relentlessly roamed from one of the deciduous forest to the other; in his perpetual search of the invincible form of ‘Buddha’,

But; the Omnipresent Almighty Creator was perennially present in every whiff of breath; which belonged to all those who forever undertook upon themselves the mission of healing every despairing life and heart; with the panacea of Immortal Love….

3…

Neither was he solely of the unimpeachably pious Christian; who dedicated every instant of his existence; ardently rotating the venerated rosary through the knots of his hands,

Neither was he solely of the immutably single focused Muslim; who fervently believed that all religions; beliefs; nationalities; led to the ultimate Heaven of ‘Allah’,

Neither was he solely of the devoutly expressionless Hindu; who experienced the power of the entire Universe; simply by staring at the portrait of his ‘Bhagwan’; sculptured in pink stone,

Neither was he solely of the unceasingly silent Buddhist; who tried his very best to assimilate and practice the paths of his undefeated God; the undying imprints of the peace-loving ‘Buddha’,


But; the Omniscient Almighty Creator was perennially present in every beat of the heart; which belonged to all those who were the unflinchingly fearless harbingers of love; even in the land of the ghoulishly massacring demon…..

4….

Neither was he solely of the unfailingly earnest Christian; who spent an infinite of his lifetimes; lighting the candles of his majestic church; in his profound admiration and appreciation of the Lord,

Neither was he solely of the wondrously enchanted Muslim; who uttered the name of ‘Allah’ at every juncture of life; and even whilst agonizingly abnegating from the heavenly physical form,

Neither was he solely of the passionately olive skinned Hindu; who kept the name of each one in his kin as ‘Bhagwan’; to timelessly safeguard himself against every evil spirit and be in due salvation of his God,

Neither was he solely of the beautifully terse Buddisht; who spent every unfurling instant of his life; kissing the holy footprints of the impregnable ‘Gautam Buddha’,


But; the unassailable Almighty Creator was perennially present in every voice; which belonged to all those who unconquerably sang the song of unbiased friendship; who unnervingly and forever defended the Universe of Immortal Love…

©®copyright by nikhil parekh. all rights reserved
 
»The Cry of the heart

 

The cry of the lion was majestically thunderous;
although it died as the minutes rapidly unveiled; with
the stupendous tranquility of the forests taking
wholesome control,

The cry of the clouds was insatiably voluptuous;
although it faded after a while; as the Sun
Omnipotently enlightened even the most infinitesimal
entity in neighboring vicinity,

The cry of the shark was royally piercing; although it
diminished almost as soon as it had come; with the
unfathomably undulating wave wholesomely drowning it
into an ocean of mesmerizing froth,

The cry of the eagle was exuberantly aristocratic;
although it vanished surreptitiously from the sky in
an ethereal flash; as cyclonically untamed maelstroms
perpetuated the canvas of the panoramic valley,

The cry of the nightingale was melodiously enchanting;
although it blended with the aisles of nothingness
after a while; as the triumphantly trumpeting
elephants insatiably marauded the meadows; left; right
and rampant center,

The cry of the gloriously unflinching warrior was
supremely ecstatic; although it coalesced with
threadbare mud in an ethereal instant; as an
unsurpassably unending tirade of pugnacious bombs;
brutally plummeted upon him from the enemy camp,

The cry of the waterfalls was harmoniously enchanting;
although it dried up as quickly as flashes of
lightening thunder; as the tyranny of the
acrimoniously sweltering day evaporated every bit of
it; into wisps of obsoletely disappearing oblivion,

The cry of the bee was boisterously swarming; although
it soon mellowed to an inconspicuous trace of its
original self; as the scent of the magnanimously
everlasting lotus unconquerably enshrouded everything
above hard ground,

The cry of the seductress was ebulliently tantalizing;
although it disappeared into the ingredients of
nothingness like a trice of a bullet; as the silken
magic of the titillating night soon gave way to the
hideously monotonous day,

The cry of the clocktower was stringently meticulous;
although it quickly subsided into a corpse of morbid
meaninglessness; as the lanky arm struck past the
wonderfully reverberating hour,

The cry of the rainbow was resplendently vivacious;
although it fleetingly hid in its shell of sequestered
oblivion; as the blanket of poignantly crimson clouds
soon took a insurmountably bountiful grip of the
fathomless sky,

The cry of the dewdrops was beautifully exhilarating;
although it pathetically evaporated into bits of open
space; as soon as the Sun blazed to its domineeringly
profound radiance in the boundless sky,

The cry of the leaves was mystically seductive;
although it transformed into a diminutively subdued
mellow; as the victoriously advancing gusty wind now
became a song of charismatic love,

The cry of the newly born was Omnisciently effusive;
although it became a fugitive impression of its
ownself; as the years advanced and the web of
inevitably insidious commercialism took disgusting
control,

The cry of the brain was fantastically unfathomable
and incessantly exploring; although it transited into
an inferno of lackadaisical disparagement; as the
savagery of uncouth society salaciously overpowered
every intricate arena of survival,

The cry of the conscience was irrefutably honest;
although it sporadically manipulated itself every now
and again; as existence was of the most
quintessentially paramount importance amidst the pack
of satanically lecherous wolves,

The cry of breath was charismatically sensuous;
although it veritably finished in limited amounts of
unfurling time; as the strokes of destiny eventually
had their unavoidably final say,

But the cry of the heart was immortally unassailable;
come what may; passionately shuddering even centuries
immemorial after wholesome diminishing of the bodily
form; perpetually uniting with God’s most pricelessly
Omnipotent beats of love….





(c) (r) copyright-2004, by nikhil parekh. all rights reserved.
 
»The Creator was everywhere

 

Be it the grandiloquently colossal castle; or the
fetidly stinking gutter hosting a fleet of obnoxious
cockroaches,
Be it the mystically shimmering Moon; or the
sweltering sands of the mammoth desert,
Be it the fathomless expanse of the azure blue sky; or
the minuscule nest of the piquant beaked woodpecker,
Be it the stupendously scented rose; or the yellow
mushroom decaying to oblivion in the heart of the
hills,
Be it the enigmatically deep and uncannily marvelous
dungeon; or the contemporary match box shaped town
square,
Be it the festoon of resplendently twinkling stars in
the cosmos; or the clammy interiors of the dingy
little and sordid hut,
Be it the electric paced stallion galloping through
rubicund farmlands; or the potbellied tortoise
traversing with Herculean effort on the hard ground,
Be it the astronomically huge ocean impregnated with
flocks of blue whales; or the small trace of saliva
lying desolate in the obsolete attic,
Be it the tumultuous streaks of pugnacious white
lightening; or the diminutive beehive camouflaged
sedately amidst the trees,
Be it the conventionally advanced computer; or the
clerk who hardly knew how to sign,
Be it the impeccable tufts of cotton sprouting in
blissful tandem from the fields; or the solitary rope
suspended morbidly from the ceiling,
Be it the incredulously fast paced aircraft kissing
the air faster than the speed of light; or the hunch
backed camel yawning embarrassingly under the
gargantuan cactus,
Be it the mountain laden with astonishingly
scintillating jewels from all round the continent; or
the droplet of blood oozing down the skin,
Be it the most invincible man trespassing on this
earth; or the astoundingly small infant who had just
emitted its first cry,
Be it the densely inhabited jungle with majestically
roaring lions; or the soft toy of plastic standing on
just a brick,
Be it the delectable meal of spell binding caramel
chocolates; or the nail embedded pathetically in the
broken wall,
Be it the superlatively rosy tongue chattering
incessantly all throughout the brilliant day; or the
stone which lay in perpetual silence beneath the lanky
grass,
Be it the island which perennially received the most
tenacious rays of the Sun; or the blind mans world
completely obfuscated from the slightest trace of
visible light,
Be it the balloon pompously inflated with
incomprehensible amounts of air; or the morose tyre
lying completely squashed like frigidly white ice,
Be it the entire army marching valiantly towards
inevitable victory; or the impoverished beggar begging
for alms every minute,
Be it the glittering gold watch ticking indefatigably
round the clock; or the placidly still statue which
didn’t speak or move at all,
Be it the loudest echo ever heard on this globe; or
the inaudible whisper dying before it even came out,
Be it the thunderously domineering shadow of the
towering edifice; or the ethereal shadow blending
every now and then with the dolorous darkness,
Be it the revered interiors of the adorable dwelling;
or the utterly disgusting and abhorrent steps leading
to your mundane office,
Be it the crackling flames of fire that leapt
ebulliently towards the coalition of emerald clouds;
or the shivering piece of freezing snow dangling from
the Christmas tree,
Be it the assembly of magnificently radiating mirrors
bundled up in an enamoring heap; or the distorted
strand of moustache floating like an insipid speck in
the atmosphere,
Be it the most remarkable of memory that could
conceive every possible situation to unfurl on the
trajectory of this planet; or the mockingly dumb worm
writhing on brown soil,
Be it the impregnable gates leading to the
presidential rooms; or the inconspicuous little
matchstick feeling soggy and despondently gloomy after
the rains,
Be it the unbelievably big bed stuffed with
ravishingly compassionate softness and warmth; or the
acrimonious thorn awaiting surreptitiously for
innocent flesh,
Be it the ingratiatingly sweet voice of the voluptuous
nightingale; or the pertinent mosquito brooding in the
profoundly hollow well,
Be it the most formidable stick in the bodyguard's
hands; or the finely pulverized pulp of ripe banana,
Be it the overwhelmingly blissful paradise harboring
the angels; or the timidly remorse voice of hell,
Be it the longest fabric ever woven and beautifully
stitched; or the threadbare string of dilapidated
shells orphaned mercilessly on the sea shores,
Be it the heart beating turbulently engulfed in the
flames of unrelenting passion; or the incongruous
follicle of hair sadly detached and lying as still as
the mud,
Be it the ingenious key able to crack through the
labyrinth of intricate lock; or the ludicrous buffoon
who kept falling even before he could rise,
Be it the luscious periphery of seductively alluring
lips; or the bland water incarcerated in small jugs of
wood,
Be it the awesome congregation of inscrutably swirling
waves crashing splendidly against the rocks; or the
dismally melting jelly in the austere heat of blazing
afternoon,
Be it the unfathomable peak of Mount Everest; or the
limp marble rolling on flat soil,
Be it the animatedly leaping Kangaroo with its pack of
siblings in its bulging pocket; or the perpetually
still photograph hanging in the sleazy dressing room,
Be it the exorbitantly costly shoes adorned by the
King as he walked on the streets; or the nakedly
petite foot coalescing with dust each time it kicked,
Be it the poignantly sharp kitchen knife ripping apart
through vegetables with nonchalant ease; or the blunt
sand with no taste of its at all,
Be it the rivulets of perspiration dribbling
tantalizingly through exotic skin; or the brutally
wounded territories of bruise that were left uncouthly
unattended,
Be it the beautifully embellished crown of the blue
blooded prince; or the mortifying bed about to split
into splinters on which the laborer slept,
Be it the most skillful doctor's clinic which was
inundated with a host of invaluably countless
medicines; or the doorstep of the patient attacked by
a mysteriously inexplicable disease,
Be it the wholesomely fascinating magician conjuring
mind boggling tricks on the stage; or the ordinary
soldier who wasn’t acquainted the slightest with the
art of bombastic sophistication,
Be it the handsomely heroic stag staring at its
reflection in the mesmerizing persona of transparent
water; or the horrendously ugly eunuch smoking his
life into relentless oblivion,
Be it a man following staunch religion all day and
every single night; or the furtive castaway who didn’t
know what was God at all,
Be it the most invincible of abode above ground; or
the evanescent corpse buried boundless feet beneath,
You name it and he was there; and you didn’t have to
walk marathon miles to reach the temple; church;
mosque; or monastery to worship him; you could very
well close your eyes and pray to him wherever you
wanted; for the Almighty Creator was Omnipresent; the
creator was everywhere….

(c) (r) copyright-2004, by nikhil parekh. all rights reserved.
 
»The darker side and the brighter aspect

 

The darker side of blindness was an unrelenting
camouflage of austere black,
while brighter aspect of the same was a sensitive
tuning of the hollow ear
drum.

The darker side of a wounded bruise was gushing
streams of blood flowing,
while brighter aspect of the same; was firm resilience
to anguish and pain.

The darker side of the ocean was drowning to death,
while brighter aspect of the same was; a cluster of
striped fish swimming.

The darker side of squashed vegetable was clouds of
insidious stench
emanating,
while brighter aspect of the same was blissful manure
for an artillery of dead
shrub.

The darker side of a computer was a total entropy of
handwriting,
while brighter aspect of the same was crisp outlines
of calligraphy ornately
printed.

The darker side of the twin horned cow was that it was
fat and
indolent,
while brighter aspect of the same was that it suckled
gallons of fresh milk.

The darker side of the sun was acrimonious rays
cauterizing tender patches of
skin,
while brighter aspect of the same was complete
fumigation of the water logged
environment.

The darker side of a candy chocolate was a plethora of
cavities in mouth
palette,
while brighter aspect of the same was waves of
felicity submerging a person in
euphoria.

The darker side of moon was that it diffused feeble
beams of opalescent
light,
while brighter aspect of the same was that it
illuminated gruesome darkness
with rays of hope.

The darker side of residing in a jungle was immense
fear of savage beasts,
while brighter aspect of the same was bathing in
crystal waters of the virgin
river.

The darker side of being a dog was being treated with
loads of contempt and
malice,
while brighter aspect of the same was ferociously
growling canine teeth at
strangers.

The darker side of death was traumatic pain and
tumultuous sorrow,
while brighter aspect of the same was to give someone
a chance to live.

The darker side of love was infinite perils lurking in
the society,
while the brighter aspect of the same was relishing
the feeling of being
cared.


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

 

the day she sobbed with unsubsiding hysteria,
i would try and assassinate the reason for her agony
from its very existent
roots.

the day she slept barefoot; bearing the tumultuous
onslaught of winter winds,
i would cover her trembling body with furry skin of
mountain bear.

the day she bruised her skin; with prolific streams of
blood oozing out,
i would kiss it with passionate warmth; leaving it for
it to heal with bonds of
our omnipresent love.

the day she sequestered herself in realms of
isolation,
i would make her violently laugh to exit from vigils
of solitary boredom.

the day she sneezed incessantly; with heat soaring to
Herculean proportions in
her body,
i would prepare sizzling hot cupfuls of incense
tea; for her to get some
respite.

the day she complained of her temples throbbing,
i would massage her scalp with deft strokes of my
palm.

the day she giggled freely with a pack of lecherous
strangers,
i would scold her for betraying me; with my anger
rising to unprecedented
limits.

the day she seemed exhausted to raise her feet,
i would hoist her on my shoulders to make her witness
the outside world.

the day she screamed at me for arriving late,
i would try and pacify her anger by tickling her
vociferously.

the day she seemed hapless while knitting me a
sweater,
i would try and execute fervent attempts to solve her
dilemma.

the day she was struck viciously by deathly fangs of
the garden snake,
i would extract the venom with my teeth; bringing her
back to consciousness.

and the day she said she wanted to terminate our
relationship; leaving me
forever,
i would simply have no other option but to die.


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