Nikhil Parekh

(27/08/1977 / Dehradun, India)

in the next birth


IF I ACQUIRED the menacing form of an
alligator in the next birth, I would want you to cling tightly to my persona as my serrated green
skin.

If I was born in the ominous form of the jungle tiger in the
next birth,
I would you to be incorporated in my body as my domineeringly
authoritative growl.

If I was born as a densely foliated tree in the next birth,
I would want you to be the perennial leaves that emanated from
my silhouette.

If I was born as an opalescent fish in the next birth,
I would want you to be saline water in which I could sustain life
and swim.

If I was born as the twin horned sacrosanct cow in the next birth,
I would inevitably desire you as the milk I would diffuse from
my flaccid teats.

If I was born as a slithering reptile in the next birth,
I would want you to be the lethal venom I possessed in my triangular
fangs.

If I was born as an obnoxious donkey in the next birth,
I would want you to be my hooves which swished indiscriminately
at innocuous trespassers.

If I was born as perpetually blind in the next birth,
I would indispensably want you to be my eyes to guide me
towards dazzling light.

If I was born as being disdainfully maim; bereft of feet in the next
birth,
I would incorrigibly want you to be my legs to ecstatically leap
in times of jubilation.

If I was born as a rustic spider with a battalion of arms in the
next birth,
I would want you to be mesmerizing threads of the silken web
which I inhabited night and day.

If I was born as an inconspicuous mosquito in the next birth,
I would want you to be the sting existing in my bifurcated tentacles.

If I was born as a agglomerate of sinister clouds in the next birth,
I would want you to be pelting sheets of rain tumbling down on the
scorched ground.

If I was born as a traditional dancer in the next birth,
I would desire you to be the jingling chains riveted to my anklets.

If I was born as a voluptuous chameleon in the next birth,
I would want you to be the band of colors that I changed according
to my habitat.

If I was born as a scintillating oyster in the next birth,
I would want you as the jugglery of immaculate pearls
impregnated in my belly.

If I was born as a solitary camel in the blistering heat of desert,
I would inevitably desire you as barrels of pellucid water to
placate my thirst.

If I was born as drummer performing at concerts in the next birth,
I would want you as the drum which would be essential for the
sound to propagate.

If I was born as the most opulent on the globe in the next birth,
I would intractably want you as the notes of currency; which
I possessed in exorbitant capacity.

If I was born as infinite blades of emerald grass in the next birth,
I would want you to be the fertile land mass of soil to provide
me tumultuous loads of nutrition.

If I was born as the frivolous monkey in the next birth,
I would want you to be my claws; facilitating me to clasp tree
branches in a vice like grip.

If I was born as an ambivalent filmmaker in the next birth,
I would want you to be every film that I directed in my reigning
tenure.

If I was born as a tantalizing rose in the next birth,
I would want you to be my everlasting fragrance.

If I was born as a mundane ceiling fan in the next birth,
I would want you to be my riveted blades; circulating exuberant
draughts of air.

If I was born as a boisterous honey bee in the next birth,
I would want you to be the sweet nectar I produced from my
catacombed body.

If I was born as an inconspicuous nail hung to the wall; in my
next birth,
I would want you to be the peels of rust I acquired on my body.

If I was born as the fibrous fruit of apple in the next birth,
I would want you to be the cluster of seeds impregnated in my belly.

If I was born as an indigenous woman in the next birth,
I would overwhelmingly desire you as the contemporary man
from the city.

And if by the stroke of chivalrous fortune; I was born as a man
again in the next birth,
I would want you to be the same girl; whom I loved immensely today; existing on this earth. 

Submitted: Saturday, August 16, 2014

Topic(s): poetry


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