Treasure Island

Nikhil Parekh

(27/08/1977 / Dehradun, India)

water is precious

If there was water on the surface of dry leaves; they would look
mesmerizing; glistening profoundly under the sun,
If there was water on mud coated wall; there would be a ravishing
scent that
permeated the adulterated air,
If there was water on vegetables lying sprawled in a forlorn heap; they
bounce back to boisterous life; retrieving the plethora of minerals
they had
lost in the blistering heat,
If there was water on fossils languidly scattered in obsolete
territories of
the dormant volcano; they would perspicuously depict the mysteries of
past; besides shimmering magnificently under the moon,
If there was water on wild buds of jungle mushroom; the unruly shoots
sparkle tenaciously; drawing millions of mouths towards them to satiate
famished taste buds,
If there was water on a battalion of acrimonious thorns; their tips
would get
dramatically softened; making them flounder in their conquest of
puncturing soft skin,
If there was water on scalp hair; their bedraggled texture would
transform into immaculately polished,
If there was water on the obdurate foam of bed; there would be an
unprecedented cool that besieging the ambience; and I would find it
astoundingly easy to fall into a invincible siesta,
If there was water on pairs of chapped lips; they would look
voluptuous and longing to be kissed,
If there was water on the scorched soil of arid desert; the surrounding
wildlife would get substantial reprieve from sweltering storms of heat,
If there was water on rampant flames of fire ominously rising up by the
zipping second; the occupants inside would be saved from the tyranny of
burnt alive,
If there was water on the elevation of dusty window panes; they would
glitter in animation; explicitly exposing the panoramic view outside,
If there was water on the river bed; scores of children would gleefully
in it; splashing it frivolously on passing pedestrians,
If there was water on clusters of scarlet rose; they would diffuse a
fragrance penetrating the claustrophobic environment with a
If there was water on feathers of the majestic peacock; it had the
to circulate waves of rhapsody even in the veins of a dying man; when
the bird
unfurled its wings to a complete blossom,
If there was water on soiled cloth; incorrigible stains would be
indiscriminately exonerated; and the fabric would now resemble an
If there was water on the serrated skin of chameleon; it would appear
rubicund while wandering indefatigably through the bushes,
And If there was water on the inverted eyelashes of my beloved; she
would look
like a goddess bathed in exquisite gold,
And let me tell you friends it was very easy for us to unflinchingly
the above mentioned; if only we learnt to save and judiciously preserve
As its every droplet is inevitably worth a million; for it is the
source of
all life beside us; an indispensable fuel to rejuvenate the depleted
of our energy; 'WATER IS PRECIOUS'. 

Submitted: Sunday, August 17, 2014

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