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Thousands of Nikhil Parekh's poems on God, Peace, Love, Brotherhood, Friendship, Humanity, Environment, Anti Terror, Lovers, Life, Death - here. Click on Page Numbers below to read complete poems. Each page has 10 poems. |
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| »Food and its unbelievable power . |
It made a person irrefutably realize his / her true stature on this earth – which was nothing infront of the Almighty Lord – as morsels were gobbled with raw humanitarian fervor and then even the most mature of body exultated in child-like delight,
It made people forget deplorably miserly discrepancies of caste; creed; color and religion over its tantalizingly sumptuous aroma,
It naturally impregnated a wretchedly war-infested environment – with the charm of an existence replete with symbiotic health and prosperity,
It gathered hordes of hungry stomachs and palettes into uninhibited camaraderie – as they sat in compassionate unity to devour its quintessential morsels for survival,
It melted even the most indiscriminately traumatic persona which lambasted the innocent – with its succulently impeccable taste which was a harbinger of bountiful humanity,
It fascinated the young and the old with its astounding freshness and vitality – which very soon blended with the fabric of existence after the gratifying bite,
It put all hostility and that desire to ruthlessly conquer to blissful sleep – as it made its way most naturally and ravishingly into the extraordinarily emaciated intestine,
It proved the most stupendously inadvertent excuse to meet up at just about any time of the day – and that too triggering that smile of satisfaction upon the lips relishing it,
It reinvigorated fading muscle and bone with indispensable boost to lead life Kingsize – bond and embrace the most alien of neighbor with the power of fortuitous love,
It metamorphosed pulverized failures into the champions of a fresh optimistic dawn – rendering in them the unabashed fortitude to stand up for the cause of unparalleled righteousness,
It rekindled the rays of desire in pathetically shriveled bloodstreams – as the living kind made merry; whispered; chatted and blended into the river of love with a new found hope to procreate,
It worked as a balm of compassionate friendship upon those haplessly aggrieved and lamenting the loss of their near and dear – as the chapter of death inevitably occurred when destined,
It was something that rendered all spurious demonstrations of power and wealth on earth utterly useless – as even the richest of all humans melanged with those begging on the roadside - to consume it ; as disasters like the earthquake struck,
It not only helped people earn livelihood as they cooked; garnished; packed and transported it – but added an indomitable aura of satisfaction to their lives as they served it to all those in dire need of it,
It miraculously helped in mollifying the most hoarsely wailing children – nourishing them with the gift of harmony - to evolve into the philanthropically noble citizens of tomorrow,
It prompted dialogues of peace and benevolent betterment even before armies could cross sides – as they preferred to arrive to a harmonious consensus of love and togetherness – after eating to their unbridled content,
It was a universal need that naturally arose at some time or the other in everyone irrespective of any religion or tribe; impregnably indicating that we’re all created by the same God and infront of him; nothing ,
It cultivated this most wonderfully altruistic habit of eating in the same plate ; as its irresistibly appetizing grandeur instilled the basic tenets of selflessness and humanitarian care ,
Such was food and its unbelievable power.
( c ) ( r ) copyright by nikhil parekh . all rights reserved .
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| »Proud of my Father . Happy Birthday to you . |
A dynamite of blazing optimism as the steps tread resolutely upon hapless floor ,
Majestic bristles of grey engulfing a handsomely robust jawline ,
Raw bundle of energy compounded with fearless streaks of adventure to clamber the mountain,
An unparalleled commitment to each project undertaken ; to take it to an honest success ,
A desire to excel in whatever stage life offered ; without the tiniest of enviousness towards others who were better off ,
Thorough professionalism which never got office work to home ; relishing the verdant landscapes of the lawn with a rejuvenating stroll ,
A flamboyant charmer with unmatched talking skills ; that converted the most dogmatic “ No “ into a mesmerizing “ Yes “,
Sheer astuteness compounded with an unbiased desire to make it independently ; evolving a lavish civilization from threadbare scratch ,
Rustic truth which earned hostile foes at occasions more than friends ; but which culminated into royally satisfying victory at the end ,
Profound love for the environment and wildlife ; flourishing with mother nature in its lap ; without asserting the slightest of spurious power or might ,
A loyalty to spouse whose examples were cited to household’s in strife ; as an outstanding human saga of real life conviction , faith , understanding and forbearance ,
Hailed as the Supremo of Denim in our very own Manchester of Textiles; Ahmedabad ,
Most importantly a faith in God and his holy messengers which gave him his own inimitable position on mortal earth ; as he happily jostled in his freshly constructed Kingsized farmhouse ,
The man turns 59 years today by the grace of God .
And though I have no regrets of not following his marketing prowess and write Poetry instead . I am still proud to have him as my Father .
Here’s wishing you Daddy a Happy Birthday for today , this gloriously enthralling 25th July , 2009
( c ) ( r ) copyright by nikhil parekh. all rights reserved. |
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| »Poem - India |
I'd like to uninhibitedly beckon you to my vivid and sacrosanct country,
Where rest the insuperable foundations of Mosques; Temples; Churches;
Gurudwaras- devoutly worshipped by millions of people fearlessly
following the religion of their choice and their invincible faith in
God Almighty,
A land replenished with a multicultural blend of traditions and humanity.
A bountiful garden with opportunity to learn; melange; prosper and
embrace myriad traditions that enrich the silhouette with color.
A landscape of uninhibited emotions which reaches to everyone ;
irrespective of caste; creed; color; tribe; religion- with humanism as
its benevolent best,
A kaleidoscope of astounding charm and artistry which enthuses with
its various rustic shades of originality; wildlife sanctuaries; virgin
beaches; and amazingly innocuous craftsmanship,
A platform where even the most alien of visitor feels in the unbridled
lap of compassionate home; where the scent of togetherness and
brotherhood dissect all barriers of language,
A country which has produced the most brilliantly enthralling people
in their own fraternities winning the Nobel Prize, the Olympic Gold
Medal, the Cricket World Cup and the Oscar with mesmerizing aplomb,
A naturally endowed and eclectically blessed empire where true
patriots and soldiers defend their motherland with the utmost pride-
and yet at the same time respect and embrace others with unfettered
open arms- preferring peace over indiscriminately terrorizing war,
Welcome to India .
( c ) ( r ) copyright by nikhil parekh. All rights reserved. |
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| »A Tribute to the Nobel Prize (NobelPrize.org) – My humble salutations |
Wondrously transparent was its grandeur- which enamored the world with the charm of invincible substance- for the greatest benefit of the living kind,
Brilliantly optimistic was its presentation- rekindling fresh rays of
hope and compassion in a planet usurped within the mortuaries of a meaningless war,
Majestically opulent was its flamboyant demeanor- as it ensured that truth prevailed in its own inimitable aura- and was perseveringly harnessed from its fragrant roots,
Marvelously resplendent was its victorious trail- reaching out to the absolute best and awarding symbiotic humanitarian existence with laurels of humble goodness,
Humanitarianly humble; yet astoundingly mighty were its deeds- as it accredited the true worth of success and insurmountable achievement- with the honor it deserved,
Selflessly sensational were its headlines- as people of all religion;
caste; creed and color united under a single roof of unparalleled
love- to congratulate a fresh voice of promise,
Gloriously embracing were its altruistic palms- as it unabashedly
invited the common man as well as the super celebrity to browse its website- wherein lay the most impeccable pearls of literature on the most fascinating aspects of existence,
Bounteously charismatic were its foundations- which evolved the most idealistic civilization of love; peace; friendship; dignity;
integrity; peace and religious equality,
Triumphantly enriching were its medallions- which reinforced faith in the ability to pursue conviction and let it uninhibitedly fructify
into the fruits of joyous positivity,
Irrefutably fearless were its decisions- as it poignantly accoladed
the most deserving candidates in their respective fields-
wholeheartedly appreciating talent and effort where it royally lay,
Marvelously magnanimous were its ceremonies- where the most intrepid of laureates had their own inimitably natural opinions- on their chosen paths in blessed life,
Honestly unbiased were its intentions- as it ingeniously segregated human fields of achievements into the most outstanding categories- defining peace; love; brotherhood and the betterment of the living kind,
Handsomely benevolent were its goals- as it patronized any form of goodness that lit up besmirched darkness with the profoundly sublime rays of togetherness and humanity,
Magnetically alluring was its charm- as it broke barriers of
discomfort – facilitating inspired dialogue between you and the
individual they crowned as their esteemed laureate,
Ardently persevering were its ideals- as it embarked on its zealously fulfilling mission of instilling solidarity amidst humanity- with its philanthropic commitment to mankind,
Beautifully bonding was its empowering feel- as what transpired at its prize giving function- was the world feeling more resourcefully enriched with the goodness of creation,
Indeed it was as “Nobel” as its name which is the “Nobel Prize” .
It can also be further visited at its website – NobelPrize.org .
And as a true citizen of my sacrosanct motherland India- I, Nikhil
Parekh, offer it my humble salutations !
(c) (r) copyright by nikhil parekh. All rights reserved.
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| »MY BABY DAUGHTER’S ORIGINALITY. |
Not her daintily bountiful feet- which were the source of life in its uninhibited fullest in the brilliantly sunlit household,
Not her incongruous mumbling in the middle of the night; as she restlessly tossed and turned from one periphery of the King poster bed to another,
Not her vividly carefree artistry- which splashed color and gregarious charm – resuscitating fresh life into the solitarily deadened canvas,
Not her streak for emulating fashion- earnestly trying to be a trendsetter in her own pristine self- as she swayed joyfully under the stars in the royally moonlit night,
Not her unpredictable temperament- which flared up at the tiniest of provocation to box everyone around her and then tranquilly quell as a silent stream to eventually merge with the sea,
Not her intriguing genius that captivated the attention of the brightest in the world- as she collaged thin bits of obsolete waywardness to harness new dimensions of creativity,
Not her mischievously uninhibited smile- that led me merrily dancing in the surreal velvet of clouds- envisaging earth the most blessedly beautiful place to be,
Not her inherently philanthropic streak- her magnanimously diminutive persona which donated without inhibition- even whilst the richest of the richest sneered in contempt,
Not her gorgeously unruffled hair which marked her identity as one who loved to play and revel in the glory of enchanting music- occasionally running the hair comb through her dolls,
Not her sipper which she clung to with ecstatic fervor and unparalleled joy- whilst suckling droplets of impeccable milk at dawn,
Not her victorious enthusiasm to relish existence to its exhilarating fullest- as her sacredness was a treasured gift from Lord Almighty to do and disseminate good around her,
Not her pedaling her cycle with new found spurts of energy- as she raced past the finishing line and immediately hugged me with invincible zeal to celebrate her monumental feat,
Not her unfettered sighs of admiration as she browsed television- garlanding her favorite actors and actresses with tiny claps in her perception,
Not her unshakeable flair for choosing the right match of food at the right time- as she was one poignant aficionado of pungent taste and spice- making her meal a vibrant delight,
Not her unbridled passion for adventure as she made new friends irrespective of caste; creed; religion or tribe- explored new and natural pathways lugged on my shoulders in a piggy-back,
Not her artistically molded fingers with which she shaped clay into the choicest shapes of intricacy- and admirably wrote in handsome calligraphy upon listless paper- in a tenacity to succeed,
Not her magnetic ability to grasp things that she liked- and then form a story of the various characters she perceived- fearlessly reciting the same to adult audience in her own unduplicated aura,
Not her rushing to me like wounded crop at the tiniest fall which happened quite inadvertently with the floor- and then I compassionately circled her in my arms showing her the fecund fields outside,
But what bowled me over. Was my baby daughter’s originality.
©®copyright by nikhil parekh. All rights reserved. |
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| » School Bag |
They uninhibitedly abused me in their own innocently gathered slangs; terming me an unnecessarily bulky mountain of nothingness,
They scorned at me like I was a piece of rotten charcoal; nonchalantly dismissing me away from their rhapsodic activities for the day,
They told me I was good for nothing but presumptuously preaching them; when they wanted to frolic and play in their mortal capacities,
They admonished me for being a laggard; sauntering at a pace slower than dead stone; at times even seeming like a gargantuan unmovable boulder to their delicate palms,
They indignantly kicked me out of the way; as I appeared a jocular misfit amidst their row, shelf, floor and tub of surreal dolls and majestic toys,
They had the time of the life trying to snap me in entirety from my seams; stealthily poking me with that mischievous scissor using all their might; before mummy had a chance to stringently intervene,
They disdainfully stood over me using me as a perfect bridge; to form a perfect circle with their joyously unfettered hands; hands intertwined in innocuous hands,
They rebelliously dumped stale leftovers of their food; socks; chewing gum; clay; into my forlorn interiors- just to teach me a lesson for burdening their shoulders; on which they wanted to carry their favorite chocolate,
They mockingly used me with gay abandon to scratch wherever they wanted; which gave them that quintessential wave of relief as well as saved their tiny hands the bother,
They impudently held me in their nimble hands criss-crossed in absence of their plastic swords; and flung me with great fervor to see who won in their game of the musketeers,
They taunted me in the most sardonic of their tones for seeming like a piece of junk; whose resting place was infact the dumpyard instead of the delectably cozy realms of their compassionate abode,
They advised me like an adult to find a worthwhile job and be constructively engaged; rather than whiling away my time nagging their inimitably fragrant childhood,
They considered me as the most abominable outsider; shutting me tight into their cupboards as they discussed their secrets and intrepid plans to be consolidated into action soon,
They had me shred into smithereens of insipidness at the tiniest of opportunity; hurling me to the hungry vultures in their backyards to disintegrate and devour,
They vowed not to talk to those who gave me as a Happy Birthday present to them; as they’d rather go without a gift- than involve themselves into the practicality of life with me by their side,
They slapped me most impeccably as only they could do; venting their entire fury on me as a mute spectator; whenever reprimanded by their parents for not doing home-work,
They used me as a perfect punching bag; boxing into my countenance with their uninhibitedly raw palms- emulating their favorite Boxing stars preparing for the big Wrestling day,
Yet. And ironically Yet. The same kids tossed me gleefully the next morning upon their pristine shoulders; marched with unfettered abandon towards their school- hugging me like I was a prince,
No. Incase you assumed that I was something of a royal charmer, let me assure you I wasn’t any of that. But I was what you mortals might’ve addressed as “ SCHOOL BAG” as you grew up by the grace of the Almighty Lord.
©®copyright by nikhil parekh. All rights reserved. |
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| »My Darling Unfettered Umbrella |
It made spell bindingly intriguing shapes in construction sand; as I thrust its tip with the most nonchalantly uninhibited ease and without giving a damn,
It brought about unabashed laughter when tickled with in the ribs; proving an astoundingly great and cost-free playmate to relish life,
It helped me draw wondrously enamoring designs in loosened clay; as I swished its tip with perseveringly passionate tenacity to reach my imaginative direction,
It pummeled incongruously delectable holes in the wall; when sagaciously used to reach the other side of the room; when every other alternative had failed,
It proved a quintessential humane tool for self-defense; as merely raising its awkwardly gaunt persona towards an impersonator; made him retract right back to the entrance gate,
It made an excellently formidable walking stick; with a resolute grip on stony ground and compassionately fondling the palms with its bountifully semi-circular end,
It acted as an enchantingly philanthropic pulley in times of duress; when I offered its tapered tip to people stuck in the flood; that helped me hoist them to safe places of comfort,
It made one of my most flexibly rejoicing bats; as I used its neatly serrated body to bludgeon the ball flying towards me; to high and handsome outside the rickety fence,
It appeared as a wand of practicality in my hands; starkly proclaiming that I’d like to mind my own business and expect the same from others; wherever I went,
It made me feel at my youthfully effervescent best; as I tapped it on cold floor- to the passionately unhindered tunes of the loudspeaker on the bustling street,
It acted as a rhapsodically make-shift broomstick at times; clearing unsolicited garbage that spontaneously appeared in the way; swishing left and right with all its might on sordid road,
It acted as a magnanimously enthralling storage pouch; as I kept all sorts of meaningful tid-bits and coins in its inner recesses; emptying the same wholesomely only after reaching the safe environs of home,
It served as a mesmerizing respite against mosquito bite; as one used its somberly protruding tip to scratch; alleviate the pang of rash after the obnoxious sting,
It proved an impeccably honest shoulder to lean upon; share; cuddle; caress and clasp- without expecting the tiniest from me in return; as the world outside suddenly turned deaf to what I said,
It gave me a feeling that I was holding an unparalleled winners trophy at times; as I nimbly tread my way to the train holding it invincibly against my chest,
It gave me a feeling of sparkling newness as I trawled my fingers through its scintillatingly shiny spokes; which jutted out in synchronized tandem to define its ebullient outlines,
It was so compassionately adjustable; as it shrunk to almost a quarter of its size when I closed it; at times even to less than my little thumb to accommodate like a toy in my pocket,
It snugly hung in almost every corner and wall nail when the time came to retire for the day; reminding me of the optimistic fervor that I needed to start a freshly flamboyant dawn,
But I liked it the most when my unfettered Umbrella opened full bloom at the punch of a button; unfurling the colors of joy of my impoverished existence; and sequestering me from the acrimonious afternoon heat just like a new born child.
©®copyright by nikhil parekh . all rights reserved
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| »Every day- A new gift from the Omniscient Creator |
Without resting an infinitesimal iota on the many peaks that were
conquered with balms of love and compassion; as life crawled at its
own unabashedly spontaneous pace; ahead,
Without basking in the glory of all those adventurous trails that had
led to the lion’s den; only to march out unscathed and unperturbed by
the grace of the Almighty God,
Without whispering much about the insurmountably crackling flames that
were subdued into nothingness; as the foot trampled the very source
into oblivion,
Without paying the tiniest of heed to the most magnanimously committed
acts of charity in recent past; wherein personal pleasures were
vanquished from all quarters to serve afflicted living kind,
Without murmuring even an insouciant trifle about the grandest of
days; when things were served on a bountiful golden platter; even
before they were ardently wished,
Without comparing to those pricelessly adorable moments- when life
seemed to be perfectly poised like an enamoring prince; on the highest
crest of the tantalizing ocean waves,
Without phlegmatically resting on the highest laurels earned in a
chosen field of expertise; which lay the mortal pedestal on a red
carpet and with the crowds cheering on in rapturous delight,
Without savoring the sweetness of a victory which was molded on the
embers of flaming truth; and which paved the way ahead for a whole new
mortal civilization of righteousness,
Without aggrandizing the slightest about the earnest perseverance put
in; to transform every ounce of fantasy into veritable reality for the
globe to admire,
Without curling into the most indigent of hurray for having outwitted
every trace of deceit with the power of infallible innocence; that was
most adorable to the winds of symbiotically united existence,
Without capitalizing on any previous commercial break that came staid
but secure; and which was so quintessential to mollify various desires
of impoverished life,
Without fantasizing the least about those succulent meals which
titillated the tongue so rhapsodically; before being eventually
gobbled with uninhibited gusto to the humane hunger that arose,
Without rekindling the nostalgia that constituted gloriously
impeccable childhood; where food, play, toys and rest; replenished
sparkling life to its joyous and unbridled best,
Without serenading the persona with all the treasuries of gold earned;
which pampered the greedy humane form to its wishes; before it
crumbled into wisps of nothingness when destined by God,
Without opening the closet of the famed circle of luminaries that the
form was associated with; whose influence sorted many mortal messes
within lightening seconds of time,
Without the most measly of flattering to the present demeanor for
having reached this far; transcending every barrier of caste; creed;
religion and color with the religion of inimitable humanity,
Without any reference to the wondrous fertility exhibited; the
ramification of which was a festoon of freshness that unveiled into a
fountain of mesmerizing creativity; by the grace of the Divine,
Without the most parsimonious of congratulation to the astounding grit
with which life was led; winning accolades from even the remotest
quarters of the planet sublime,
Every day was an unparalleled new gift from the Omniscient Creator.
Each Sunrise started fresh. Each morning was a different morning laden
with optimism. Every dawn blossomed with jubilant hope to
symbiotically survive.
©®copyright by nikhil parekh. All rights reserved. |
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| » Sweat Bath |
Neither was the most contemporarily powerful of air-conditioner needed; even as the heat outside raced to an unbearable scorch,
Neither was there the most infinitesimal puff of wind that could provide any respite; as time painstakingly crawled to welcome a fresh dawn,
Neither did ice form into mesmerizing cubes even in the deepest freeze; as virtually everything in vicinity was shredded asunder in fiery whirlpools of the afternoon,
Neither did wondrously tantalizing waves of the oceans reach the penurious doorstep; as they were pragmatically speaking - continents and poles apart,
Neither did the most rhapsodically delectable ice-creams and candies cause a diminutive dent; as the blazing heat pulverized the same into frigid pulp-even before they could reach the lips,
Neither did the most mellifluously nostalgic of songs cause an impact- as shades of adulterated humane yellow pierced the atmosphere; as draughts of warm air swept their might,
Neither did the most enchanting of praises reach the ears; as asphyxiating dust and morbid smoke; squandered through a landscape of population with a forlorn will to kill,
Neither did the darkest shades of black tinted glass come to any rescue- as though the dark films sequestered from direct impact; they absorbed heat at the same time to eventually distort beyond recognition,
Neither did the merrily artificial tap of water provide the tiniest of solace; as it soon started to emit hostile steam usurped by the storm of volcanic heat which wavered fiercely around,
Neither did the glass of freshly extracted fruit juice render the slightest of rejuvenation- as it miserably evaporated to reveal the last grains of sugar and salt blended within; as famished palms groped fervently ahead to clutch it,
Neither did snow flakes disdainfully thrown astray by the passing carts create a whiff of cool- as the parched tarmac devoured those few globules of water first; even before any living form dared creep near them,
Neither did the most majestic of castles generate a shy beam of shade; as their walls themselves scorched like a ravaging bulldozer; sulking at the angst that came alongwith the heat- instead of a grain of compassionate comfort,
Neither did the historically quaint well guarantee any beacon of a promise; as when one tread right to its mystically intrepid bottom- the discovery did yield hollowness but without a droplet of liquid to compliment,
Neither did the sensuously nestled swimming pool offer a fantasy of revitalizing delight; as arid winds laced with venomous smoke stabbed its periphery; metamorphosing its charmed persona into a parsimoniously fetid gutter line,
Neither did the princely fountain adorning the bustling street offer a trifle of an enthrallment- as the spray that once upon a time kissed the chin after ricocheting of ground; now abruptly dried midway in fireballs of acrimonious heat,
Neither did the couch of astoundingly pure velvet generate any comfort; as before anyone could nestle on its enamoring softness- its covers melted in the tyrannical heat- and out came charging the unabashed coiled springs,
And yet I was unabashedly relishing each ounce of my existence; even as the tumultuous summer heat whipped every bit of joy from the solar-plexus of survival,
As I romanced in the golden stream of mortal sweat that sensuously dribbled down my skin- to give me my victorious “Sweat-Bath”.
©®copyright by nikhil parekh. All rights reserved. |
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| »Destined to be dead. When God wants. |
I didn’t know whether it would be flamboyantly optimistic rays of the
Sun; or whether the sky would resemble silver streaks of monsoon grey-
when I’d step out of the pitch dark coal mine,
I didn’t know whether it’d rain unrelentingly; or whether it’d turn
out to be a day embellished with the profoundness of ecstatic light-
as I retired for sleep just a few hours before,
I didn’t know whether I’d meet with several uncouth barricades; or
whether I’d reach the finishing line of sweet success like the flight
of a royally unbridled eagle- as I tread on the jagged road outside,
I didn’t know whether the very next person I’d encounter would be a
long-lost friend; or a complete stranger with whom I’d have to
interact from the infinitesimal scratch so that we became best
friends,
I didn’t know whether the waves of the ocean would serenely undulate
under the opalescent Moon- or whether there would be an undivided wall
of fiery water called ‘Tsunami’ hurtling towards the crowded township-
as I merrily hummed the tunes of my choice snuggled cozily in my hotel
room,
I didn’t know whether there’d be impeccable landscapes of ice as I
traversed up the hills; or whether what would greet me would be
treacherous barren slopes- with delightful rivulets of water tumbling
by my side,
I didn’t know whether the colossal edifice would retain its poise; or
come down crumbling like a pack of frigid matchsticks; as the
earthquake struck without the tiniest of insinuation and with
insurmountable might,
I didn’t know whether the bus awkwardly wobbling through the hills;
would reach the summit with all passengers in bliss; or whether it’d
skid its way head-on- down into the stillness of the devouring gorge,
I didn’t know whether the tantalizing plain of mud that laid infront;
would facilitate to reach the other end like a royal safari- or
whether it’d perseveringly suck life trying to traverse being the
slippery sand,
I didn’t know whether the fresh bundle of life soon about to leave the
womb and entire planet divine- would be an unequivocally bonding baby
girl; or a mischievous little darling baby boy,
I didn’t know whether the stranger walking abreast my window; lived in
a charmed castle of glittering columns and crowns- or whether he found
solace under the open roof of the unassailable sky; when night
inevitably descended by,
I didn’t know whether the bird perched on the roof- would choose to
peck at grains strewn in bountiful abundance around; or whether it’d
dabble its beak just an insouciant trifle into the few droplets of
water in the bowl,
I didn’t know whether the offsprings would abruptly leave their mother
one day; or whether they’d all continue to exist till destined in
their abode replenished with the threads of love,
I didn’t know whether the bride and bride-groom who appeared so
wondrously enlightened on solemnization of marriage- would lead a life
further of unhindered joy; mutual bliss and respect- or whether their
existence would mark a new chapter of being fraught with total
discontent; dissimilarities and disparities,
I didn’t know whether the flamboyantly roaring lion would attack the
man with savage hostility; or would come near him to timidly lap up
his palm; the same man who’d once upon a time removed a thorn from its
profusely oozing wound,
I didn’t know whether the vultures would admire their unfettered
flight in the scintillatingly candid mirror; or whether they’d
disintegrate the same into worthless pieces with nonchalant probes of
their legs and beaks,
I didn’t know whether the inscrutably exuberant paintings of the
painter would reach him the epitome of mortal success and fame; or
whether he’d spend a life in lambasted reclusion and seclusion from
the outside world,
I didn’t know whether the kite I flew from my terrace; would soar
placidly as I relished plucking at its lifeless string; or whether
it’d fall with an instantaneous thud upon obdurate concrete; cut by a
counterpart string which had more luck that time,
But irrespective of this or that we did not know – what I and every
single one of us living beings definitely and irrefutably know; is
that every mortal life taken birth upon the soil by God’s grace- is
destined to be dead when God wants.
©®copyright by nikhil parekh . all rights reserved. |
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