No Formality Poem by Nikhil Parekh

I hated flamboyant parties; strident and sleazy music diffusing from the contemporary discotheque,

I hated drinking mineral water in scintillating glasses of silver; sighting my reflection in polished exteriors of the same,

I hated swanky cars transporting me at whizzing speeds; embellished attendants spuriously smiling; inviting me to enter the same,

I hated glittering restaurants adorned with a festoon of lights; waiters making their clients laugh; just for the sake of being showered with exorbitant tips,

I hated the overwhelmingly scented businessman; whose ideals infact smelt more than the most rotten stack of sewage,

I hated the word thank you; when the person uttering it actually had intentions of killing you; profoundly lurking in his eyes,

I hated masticating my food infinite times before gulping; an armory of intricate knives and oval shaped spoons laid meticulously on the table,

I hated it when someone welcomed me with a myriad of garlands and golden coins; ordered a battalion of attendants to fan me; at every step I took,

I hated going up the hill in shimmering escalators; when infact the meandering pathways would drown me into a state of mystical enchantment,

I hated sitting in the air-conditioned room; with scores of commercial delegates blowing ostentatious wisps of smoke; obnoxiously into thin air,

I hated shaking hands without any sense; as a stream of visitors kept barging in
the colony all day,

I hated speaking baselessly and in deliberate slang; when infact the rustic language of my country was splendidly enough to express my feelings; put me in unprecedented ease at all times,

I hated nibbling tangy gum and acting snobbish; youngsters who blew their fathers money; without the slightest of contemplation and hesitancy,

I hated the conventional ways of marriage with people from distant countries thronging in; when infact the hearts of those tying the thread were poles apart,
I hated the toothbrush with an ensemble of curves and spongy rubber; when infact I had the medicinal branches of the blossoming Neem tree; to clean my teeth and
my cheeks,

I hated individuals who praised me; escalated me to the pinnacle of Everest with their flattery; when infact there was a river of prejudice flowing in their flesh everywhere; instead of crimson blood,

I hated the priests who propagated only their respective religions; when infact God was omnipresent; and resided in every heart and soul,

I hated all those parents who spoke to their children in English instead of their own indigenous languages; just because it was prevalent like wild fire all over the globe,

I hated artificial sweetener added to juice; when infact its original flavor was incredulously ravishing to sip and relish,

Well until now I presume; you must have already understood what sort of a person was I; and for those of you who have not; let me tell you; that I was a man who hated all kinds of bombastic pretensions; infact a man of no formality.