Nikhil Parekh Poems

Please bestow upon me the status of being a jeweler; owning a palatial shop embodied with scintillating diamonds and gold,
Only if i had the heart to embellish all those earlobes which were bare; all
fingers with an urge to dispense justice; with beads of exotic white pearls.
...

How was it ever possible when you resolved to remain awake the entire night; keeping your eyelids incorrigibly open,
That after a few minutes you felt besieged by loud yawns; transited into a blissful slumber?

How was it ever possible when you firmly decided not to consume food the whole
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I was just a dead cubicle of ice hanging from the mountains; on the verge of breaking, with every passing draught of wind,
It was only when you came into my life; that I became a sparkling river; flowing boisterously down your slopes.

I was just a lifeless stone waiting to be kicked by the society on the road, staring hopelessly as swanky cars uncouthly trampled me with their wheels,
...

The power in my legs was gradually diminishing; the toes of my foot were chafed and red at their edges,

The chords of my throat were dreadfully hoarse; the saliva had almost dried up in my mouth,
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You weren't condemning the black cat; you were infact condemning God who had evolved it in the first place,

You weren't condemning the hideous looking and ruffled owl; you were infact condemning God who had evolved it in the first place,
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Don't waste your time in spuriously washing your clothes; scrubbing the surplus dirt adhering to your fingers for hours on the trot,
For if you really had the urge to clean something; first clean your mind, heart and life instead.

Don't waste your time in vigorously shampooing your hair; applying sandalwood balm all across your fatigued body,
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For him man was not as disdainfully black as charcoal; or as white as the impeccable crusts of ice-cream,

For him man was not as tall as the mountains; or as weak as the diminutive ant,
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He was the one for whom my heart throbbed violently; skipping a beat every time in due admiration for his incredibly Omnipotent power,

He was the one for whom my breath flowed; profoundly engrossed in inhaling the gorgeous aura of his amazing creation,
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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,
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Is there any point in growing grass which Is black; when we know that the blades sprouting from soil are always parrot green,

Is there any point in trying to move the colossal mountain barehanded; when we
know its unlikely to budge a single inch,
...