Poetry by Love Poet Nikhil Parekh at Microsoft Network

They uninhibitedly abused me in their own innocently gathered slangs; terming me an unnecessarily  bulky mountain of nothingness,

They scorned at me like I was a piece of rotten charcoal; nonchalantly dismissing me away from their rhapsodic activities for the day,

They told me I was good for nothing but presumptuously preaching them; when they wanted to frolic and play in their mortal capacities,

They admonished me for being a laggard; sauntering at a pace slower than dead stone; at times even seeming like a gargantuan unmovable boulder to their delicate palms,

They indignantly kicked me out of the way; as I appeared a jocular misfit amidst their row, shelf, floor and tub of surreal dolls and majestic toys,

They had the time of the life trying to snap me in entirety from my seams; stealthily poking me with that mischievous scissor using all their might; before mummy had a chance to stringently intervene,

They disdainfully stood over me using me as a perfect bridge; to form a perfect circle with their joyously unfettered hands; hands intertwined in innocuous hands,

They rebelliously dumped stale leftovers of their food; socks; chewing gum; clay; into my forlorn interiors- just to teach me a lesson for burdening their shoulders; on which they wanted to carry their favorite chocolate,

They mockingly used me with gay abandon to scratch wherever they wanted; which gave them that quintessential wave of relief as well as saved their tiny hands the bother,

They impudently held me in their nimble hands criss-crossed in absence of their plastic swords; and flung me with great fervor to see who won in their game of the musketeers,

They taunted me in the most sardonic of their tones for seeming like a piece of junk; whose resting place was infact the dumpyard instead of the delectably cozy realms of their compassionate abode,

They advised me like an adult to find a worthwhile job and be constructively engaged; rather than whiling away my time nagging their inimitably fragrant childhood,

They considered me as the most abominable outsider; shutting me tight into their cupboards as they discussed their secrets and intrepid plans to be consolidated into action soon,

They had me shred into smithereens of insipidness at the tiniest of opportunity; hurling me to the hungry vultures in their backyards to disintegrate and devour,

They vowed not to talk to those who gave me as a Happy Birthday present to them; as they’d rather go without a gift- than involve themselves into the practicality of life with me by their side,

They slapped me most impeccably as only they could do; venting their entire fury on me as a mute spectator; whenever reprimanded by their parents for not doing home-work,

They used me as a perfect punching bag; boxing into my countenance with their uninhibitedly raw palms- emulating their favorite Boxing stars preparing for the big Wrestling day,

Yet. And ironically Yet. The same kids tossed me gleefully the next morning upon their pristine shoulders; marched with unfettered abandon towards their school- hugging me like I was a prince,

No. Incase you assumed that I was something of a royal charmer, let me assure you I wasn’t any of that. But I was what you mortals might’ve addressed as  “ SCHOOL BAG” as you grew up by the grace of the Almighty Lord.



©®copyright by nikhil parekh. All rights reserved.

It made spell bindingly intriguing shapes in construction sand; as I thrust its tip with the most nonchalantly uninhibited ease and without giving a damn,

It brought about unabashed laughter when tickled with in the ribs; proving an astoundingly great and cost-free playmate to relish life,

It helped me draw wondrously enamoring designs in loosened clay; as I swished its tip with perseveringly passionate tenacity to reach my imaginative direction,

It pummeled incongruously delectable holes in the wall; when sagaciously used to reach the other side of the room; when every other alternative had failed,

It proved a quintessential humane tool for self-defense; as merely raising its awkwardly gaunt persona towards an impersonator; made him retract right back to the entrance gate,

It made an excellently formidable walking stick; with a resolute grip on stony ground and compassionately fondling the palms with its bountifully semi-circular end,

It acted as an enchantingly philanthropic pulley in times of duress; when I offered its tapered tip to people stuck in the flood; that helped me hoist them to safe places of comfort,

It made one of my most flexibly rejoicing bats; as I used its neatly serrated body to bludgeon the ball flying towards me; to high and handsome outside the rickety fence,

It appeared as a wand of practicality in my hands; starkly proclaiming that I’d like to mind my own business and expect the same from others; wherever I went,

It made me feel at my youthfully effervescent best; as I tapped it on cold floor-  to the passionately unhindered tunes of the loudspeaker on the bustling street,

It acted as a rhapsodically make-shift broomstick at times; clearing unsolicited garbage that spontaneously appeared in the way; swishing left and right with all its might on sordid road,  

It acted as a magnanimously enthralling storage pouch; as I kept all sorts of meaningful tid-bits and coins in its inner recesses; emptying the same wholesomely only after reaching the safe environs of home,

It served as a mesmerizing  respite against mosquito bite; as one used its somberly protruding tip to scratch; alleviate the pang of rash after the obnoxious sting,

It proved an impeccably honest shoulder to lean upon; share; cuddle; caress and clasp- without expecting the tiniest from me in return; as the world outside suddenly turned deaf to what I said,

It gave me a feeling that I was holding an unparalleled winners trophy at times; as I nimbly tread my way to the train holding it invincibly against my chest,

It gave me a feeling of sparkling newness as I trawled my fingers through its scintillatingly shiny spokes; which jutted out in synchronized tandem to define its ebullient outlines,

It was so compassionately adjustable; as it shrunk to almost a quarter of its size when I closed it; at times even to less than my little thumb to accommodate like a toy in my pocket,

It snugly hung in almost every corner and wall nail when the time came to retire for the day; reminding me of the optimistic fervor that I needed to start a freshly flamboyant dawn,

But I liked it the most when my unfettered Umbrella opened full bloom at the punch of a button; unfurling the colors of joy of my impoverished existence; and sequestering me from the acrimonious afternoon heat just like a new born child.

©®copyright by nikhil parekh . all rights reserved

Neither was the most contemporarily powerful of air-conditioner
needed; even as the heat outside raced to an unbearable scorch,

Neither was there the most infinitesimal puff of wind that could
provide any respite; as time painstakingly crawled to welcome a fresh
dawn,

Neither did ice form into mesmerizing cubes even in the deepest
freeze; as virtually everything in vicinity was shredded asunder in
fiery whirlpools of the afternoon,

Neither did wondrously tantalizing waves of the oceans reach the
penurious doorstep; as they were pragmatically speaking - continents
and poles apart,

Neither did the most rhapsodically delectable ice-creams and candies
cause a diminutive dent; as the blazing heat pulverized the same into
frigid pulp-even before they could reach the lips,

Neither did the most mellifluously nostalgic of songs cause an impact-
as shades of adulterated humane yellow pierced the atmosphere; as
draughts of warm air swept their might,

Neither did the most enchanting of praises reach the ears; as
asphyxiating dust and morbid smoke; squandered through a landscape of
population with a forlorn will to kill,

Neither did the darkest shades of black tinted glass come to any
rescue- as though the dark films sequestered from direct impact; they
absorbed heat at the same time to eventually distort beyond
recognition,

Neither did the merrily artificial tap of water provide the tiniest of
solace; as it soon started to emit hostile steam usurped by the storm
of volcanic heat which wavered fiercely around,

Neither did the glass of freshly extracted fruit juice render the
slightest of rejuvenation- as it miserably evaporated to reveal the
last grains of sugar and salt blended within; as famished palms groped
fervently ahead to clutch it,

Neither did snow flakes disdainfully thrown astray by the passing
carts create a whiff of cool- as the parched tarmac devoured those few
globules of water first; even before any living form dared creep near
them,

Neither did the most majestic of castles generate a shy beam of shade;
as their walls themselves scorched like a ravaging bulldozer; sulking
at the angst that came alongwith the heat- instead of a grain of
compassionate comfort,

Neither did the historically quaint well guarantee any beacon of a
promise; as when one tread right to its mystically intrepid bottom-
the discovery did yield hollowness but without a droplet of liquid to
compliment,

Neither did the sensuously nestled swimming pool offer a fantasy of
revitalizing delight; as arid winds laced with venomous smoke stabbed
its periphery; metamorphosing its charmed persona into a
parsimoniously fetid gutter line,

Neither did the princely fountain adorning the bustling street offer a
trifle of an enthrallment- as the spray that once upon a time kissed
the chin after ricocheting of ground; now abruptly dried midway in
fireballs of acrimonious heat,

Neither did the couch of astoundingly pure velvet generate any
comfort; as before anyone could nestle on its enamoring softness- its
covers melted in the tyrannical heat- and out came charging the
unabashed coiled springs,


And yet I was unabashedly relishing each ounce of my existence; even
as the tumultuous summer heat whipped every bit of joy from the
solar-plexus of survival,

As I romanced in the golden stream of mortal sweat that sensuously
dribbled down my skin- to give me my victorious “Sweat-Bath”.


©®copyright by nikhil parekh. All rights reserved.

Destined to be dead. When God wants.

I didn’t know whether it would be flamboyantly optimistic rays of the
Sun; or whether the sky would resemble silver streaks of monsoon grey-
when I’d step out of the pitch dark coal mine,

I didn’t know whether it’d rain unrelentingly; or whether it’d turn
out to be a day embellished with the profoundness of ecstatic light-
as I retired for sleep just a few hours before,

I didn’t know whether I’d meet with several uncouth barricades; or
whether I’d reach the finishing line of sweet success like the flight
of a royally unbridled eagle- as I tread on the jagged road outside,

I didn’t know whether the very next person I’d encounter would be a
long-lost friend; or a complete stranger with whom I’d have to
interact from the infinitesimal scratch so that we became best
friends,

I didn’t know whether the waves of the ocean would serenely undulate
under the opalescent Moon- or whether there would be an undivided wall
of fiery water called ‘Tsunami’ hurtling towards the crowded township-
as I merrily hummed the tunes of my choice snuggled cozily in my hotel
room,

I didn’t know whether there’d be impeccable landscapes of ice as I
traversed up the hills; or whether what would greet me would be
treacherous barren slopes- with delightful rivulets of water tumbling
by my side,

I didn’t know whether the colossal edifice would retain its poise; or
come down crumbling like a pack of frigid matchsticks; as the
earthquake struck without the tiniest of insinuation and with
insurmountable might,

I didn’t know whether the bus awkwardly wobbling through the hills;
would reach the summit with all passengers in bliss; or whether it’d
skid its way head-on- down into the stillness of the devouring gorge,

I didn’t know whether the tantalizing plain of mud that laid infront;
would facilitate to reach the other end like a royal safari- or
whether it’d perseveringly suck life trying to traverse being the
slippery sand,

I didn’t know whether the fresh bundle of life soon about to leave the
womb and entire planet divine- would be an unequivocally bonding baby
girl; or a mischievous little darling baby boy,

I didn’t know whether the stranger walking abreast my window; lived in
a charmed castle of glittering columns and crowns- or whether he found
solace under the open roof of the unassailable sky; when night
inevitably descended by,

I didn’t know whether the bird perched on the roof- would choose to
peck at grains strewn in bountiful abundance around; or whether it’d
dabble its beak just an insouciant trifle into the few droplets of
water in the bowl,

I didn’t know whether the offsprings would abruptly leave their mother
one day; or whether they’d all continue to exist till destined in
their abode replenished with the threads of love,

I didn’t know whether the bride and bride-groom who appeared so
wondrously enlightened on solemnization of marriage- would lead a life
further of unhindered joy; mutual bliss and respect- or whether their
existence would mark a new chapter of being fraught with total
discontent; dissimilarities and disparities,

I didn’t know whether the flamboyantly roaring lion would attack the
man with savage hostility; or would come near him to timidly lap up
his palm; the same man who’d once upon a time removed a thorn from its
profusely oozing wound,

I didn’t know whether the vultures would admire their unfettered
flight in the scintillatingly candid mirror; or whether they’d
disintegrate the same into worthless pieces with nonchalant probes of
their legs and beaks,

I didn’t know whether the inscrutably exuberant paintings of the
painter would reach him the epitome of mortal success and fame; or
whether he’d spend a life in lambasted reclusion and seclusion from
the outside world,

I didn’t know whether the kite I flew from my terrace; would soar
placidly as I relished plucking at its lifeless string; or whether
it’d fall with an instantaneous thud upon obdurate concrete; cut by a
counterpart string which had more luck that time,


But irrespective of this or that we did not know – what I and every
single one of us living beings definitely and irrefutably know; is
that every mortal life taken birth upon the soil by God’s grace- is
destined to be dead when God wants.

©®copyright by nikhil parekh . all rights reserved.