Nikhil Parekh Poems

The best way to pay him back for giving me precious sight; was to help all those staggering haphazardly in the darkness with their eyes wholesomely blinded,

The best way to pay him back for inundating my treasury with overwhelming gold and infinite biscuits of silver; was to disseminate it judiciously amongst all those impoverished; and who really needed it,
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To quench a scorched travelers thirst; all that was required was a tiny well with sparkling water,
The entire ocean with its boundless number of volcanic waves; the infinite assemblage of salty liquid proved to be absolutely useless.

To appease a famished beggars hunger; all that was required was the minuscule little cluster of appetizing cherries,
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Forgive me for inadvertently trampling over scores of tiny ants; crawling unnoticed on the cold floor,

Forgive me for spitting foamy saliva indiscreetly on the streets; on formation of excess liquid in the palette of my mouth,
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How could you ever expect tangy butter; to taste sweet instead of delivering its poignant aroma?

How could you ever expect the mesmerizing nightingale; to growl like a tiger instead of incessantly singing melodious tunes?
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After every gruesome night; there rises the brilliant day; with the sun dazzling profoundly in the sky,

After every storm; there descends a celestial stillness; that impregnates the ambience with unprecedented peace,
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If I was a minuscule brick looking as inconspicuous as a mosquito; sandwiched between several of my kind,
He was the entire building; towering domineeringly over the crowded and bustling street.

If I were a diminutive stalk of grass sprouting from the soil; buckling down with paramount ease under feeble draughts of wind,
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While both my eyes were busy seeking possibilities to survive in this mercenary world; discerning the good and bad scattered overwhelmingly around,
Infinite eyes of his were fully engrossed in protecting me even from the tiniest of shadow of evil; seeing to it that I existed in perpetual happiness.

While both my hands were busy building a house for me and my beloved to live; fetching bricks; and vigorously molding a mountain of cement and stone,
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In order to cut the fabulous ribbon; I used a pair of majestically glistening scissors,

In order to cut the unruly weeds of rampantly sprawling grass; I used the irascibly groaning and obsolete lawn mower,
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Do something; that wholesomely metamorphoses the complexion of the dreadfully dreary atmosphere; enlightening it with fireballs of overwhelmingly insatiable euphoria,

Do something; that perennially culminates into a marvelously bountiful fantasy; enthrallingly mesmerizing one and all alike; with your wonderfully ravishing touch,
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There were towering faces of unassailably domineering mountains; to stop the unrelentingly untamed maelstrom of wind,

There were unfathomably stringent bars of antiseptic carbolic; to stop the intransigently uncouth flow of pertinent germs and disease,
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