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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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»Whos bothered the tiniest of death…

 

Who's bothered the tiniest of death; but yes I'm terribly afraid that
I'd never ever be able to remember those divinely eyes of yours; the
unparalleled empathy for every fraternity of living kind enshrouding
them; after I die,

Who's bothered the tiniest of death; but yes I'm uncontrollably afraid
that I'd never ever be able to remember those magical palms of yours;
which forever erased every sorrow from the fathomless fabric of
mankind; after I die,

Who's bothered the tiniest of death; but yes I'm indescribably afraid
that I'd never ever be able to remember those benign ears of yours
which heard and befriended every voice from the heart on this earth;
after I die,

Who's bothered the tiniest of death; but yes I'm endlessly afraid that
I'd never ever be able to remember those Omnipotent footprints of
yours which invincibly lead all forms of altruistic goodness; to the
ultimate corridors of utopian heaven,

Who's bothered the tiniest of death; but yes I'm unfathomably afraid
that I'd never ever be able to remember those miraculously
ameliorating lips of yours—which metamorphosed every insinuation of
disparity into a paradise of oneness; after I die,

Who's bothered the tiniest of death; but yes I'm limitlessly afraid
that I'd never ever be able to remember those Omniscient lines of your
forehead; which poignantly depicted the destiny of every palpitating
organism on this Universe; after I die,

Who's bothered the tiniest of death; but yes I'm unceasingly afraid
that I'd never ever be able to remember that inimitably unconquerable
majesty of your caress—which took all my pains forever and ever and
ever; after I die,

Who's bothered the tiniest of death; but yes I'm terribly afraid that
I'd never ever be able to remember that eternally enlightening voice
of yours—which silenced the mightiest shriek of the devil forever;
after I die,

Who's bothered the tiniest of death; but yes I'm unthinkably afraid
that I'd never ever be able to remember those innumerable miracles
that you inexhaustibly spurned out of lifeless air; after I die,

Who's bothered the tiniest of death; but yes I'm treacherously afraid
that I'd never ever be able to remember that divinely nose of yours
which mischievously cuddled every child irrespective of caste/creed/or
color—thereby giving it a brand new life; after I die,

Who's bothered the tiniest of death; but yes I'm unexplainably afraid
that I'd never ever be able to remember that impregnable freshness
that radiated from your countenance; which perpetuated an infinite
civilizations of symbiotic togetherness; after I die,

Who's bothered the tiniest of death; but yes I'm inconsolably afraid
that I'd never ever be able to remember your Omnipotence fragrance;
which gave a whole new direction to every despairingly flailing
element of life; after I die,

Who's bothered the tiniest of death; but yes I'm intransigently afraid
that I'd never ever be able to remember your unparalleled magnetic
voice—which quelled every idiosyncratically perverted imagery forever;
after I die,

Who's bothered the tiniest of death; but yes I'm irretrievably afraid
that I'd never ever be able to remember your astounding prowess to
blend earth with sky-at a singleton swish of your godly thumb; after I
die,

Who's bothered the tiniest of death; but yes I'm maniacally afraid
that I'd never ever be able to remember the unassailable silkenness of
your persona—which charmed even the most hideous of devils to fall at
your feet; after I die,

Who's bothered the tiniest of death; but yes I'm overwhelmingly afraid
that I'd never ever be able to remember that heavenly spontaneity that
profusely dribbled from your soul—uninhibitedly embracing one and all
on this boundless Universe; after I die,

Who's bothered the tiniest of death; but yes I'm inescapably afraid
that I'd never ever be able to remember that immortal heart of yours;
whose each insuperable beat blessed every cranny of this gigantic
Universe with the power of truth; after I die,

Who's bothered the tiniest of death; but yes I'm inexorably afraid
that I'd never ever be able to remember that unmatched signature of
yours—which forever bore the ultimate seal of this entire enchanting
planet; after I die,

Who's bothered the tiniest of death; but I'm continuously afraid that
I'd never ever be able to remember that eternal sparkle in even the
most evanescent of your shadow—which bestowed upon the power to
royally survive as the richest organism for an infinite more
lifetimes; after I die….

(c)(r)copyright by nikhil parekh. all rights reserved.
 
»Come lets embrace our New Religion…

 

Religion is that--what even the most infinitesimal cranny of your eyes
wanted to see—inexhaustibly absorb; admire; yearn for till times beyond
infinity and even beyond your veritably stinking grave,

Religion is that-- what each ingredient of your blood inexhaustibly craved to be a part of ---flow for with an untamed zeal resembling the unendingly vivacious expanse of the crystalline blue sky,

Religion is that--what the innermost voices of your conscience felt to be the ultimate truth---irrespective of whatever be the place; time; situation; moment or conditionality of impoverished & truncated life,

Religion is that—what every part of your feet wanted to ardently step on---pave an inimitably righteous path of their very own amidst a brutal quagmire of emotions and squalid commercialism all around,

Religion is that--what your hands wanted to give the most unflinchingly definitive shape to---such an unfailing silhouette of eternal friendship which was impossible for even the most beguiling of demons to disrupt,

Religion is that-- what your lips wanted to kiss 24 X 7---perpetuating even the most bizarrely frazzled persona to uninhibitedly soar in wisps of unfettered paradise,

Religion is that--what your nostrils wanted to inhale till the last breath of life---an entrenchment of unassailable compassion which made existence the most priceless chapter of destiny,

Religion is that--what your fingers wanted to timelessly intertwine with each unveiling instant---bask in the spirit of invincibly bountiful friendship for times beyond an unfathomable infinite,

Religion is that—what each part of your ears wanted to mellifluously hear---enthrall to the most unprecedented of capacities in the everlastingly symbiotic tunes of blissful survival,

Religion is that—what your palms wanted to infallibly clasp forever and ever and ever---that united strength of togetherness that granted you the temerity to palpitate even in the most apocalyptically disastrous of storms and times,

Religion is that—what your mouth wanted to perennially talk and sing praises about---rhapsodically engulfing each element of the atmosphere around you with the unbridled happiness of a countless lifetimes in one,

Religion is that—what each of your bones felt the most resolutely strong for---defending each honest and fructifying voice from within like the citadel of the gods,

Religion is that—what your mind fantasized till beyond the most unbelievably beautiful limits—and thereby felt in the seventh heaven of ubiquitous prosperity whilst traversing each instant on mundane earth,

Religion is that—what your shoulders philanthropically hoisted from one end of your adventure to the other—being a selfless harbinger of humanity to mitigate each ounce of sorrow with profound camaraderie and care,

Religion is that—what your legs want to ecstatically gallop after; like the horizons indefatigably running after the Sun—the most tantalizing mirage which tirelessly triggers you to achieve more and more and more,

Religion is that—what the tiniest cranny of your soul unshakably radiates---permeating such a yearning that you continued to wondrously exist beyond your corpse for a countless more lives and lifetimes,

Religion is that—what your heart feels is the absolute epitome of righteousness—no matter how uncouthly the barbarous planet outside chose to devour every bit of you; from your very roots,

So folks lets forget everything else; come lets move united and forward; come lets live this immortal religion of our hearts to the fullest; come lets forget our disdainfully castrated pasts and give this new religion of ours a fresh try—and our very very best…

©®copyright by nikhil parekh. all rights reserved.
 
»31st December—My ultimate hero…

 

Irrespective of whether they were extraordinarily happy; or whether
they inconsolably fretted in the aisles of utter desperation—with the
gruesome blackness of extinction ominously maiming each of their
senses,

Irrespective of whether they were perennially successful; or whether
they miserably floundered a countless times even before alighting a
single foot—unnecessarily losing it- in their bouts of whimsical
fidgetiness,

Irrespective of whether they were unsurpassably rich; or whether they
profusely slavered at the most diminutive morsel of food—brutally
emaciating since a record number of days and treacherously freezing
nights,

Irrespective of whether they were in unconquerable space; or whether
they were left to uncouthly stagnate on the fecklessly sordid streets
and hackneyed gutter bins of the country's largest slum,

Irrespective of whether they sang a boundless tunes in the praise of
the Lord; or whether they sadistically licked up every pint of spit
emitted by the vindictively trouncing devil,

Irrespective of whether they bustled as perfectly symbiotic
busy-bodies; or whether they aimlessly loitered through the lanes of
slandering oblivion—which'd nothing but hoarse regret to offer as a
pathetic end-product,

Irrespective of whether they were unassailable magicians; or whether
all what they dared touch; sullenly metamorphosed into frigidly
incoherent bits of lame dust,

Irrespective of whether they were invincible perfectionists; or
whether they perpetually adhered to the famous axiom 'To Err is Human'
and immortalized the same with their relentless failures,

Irrespective of whether they were triumphantly persevering; or whether
they lazed and endlessly lazed even under the most acrimoniously
scorching sun; just because their bones creaked a trifle whilst
getting up,

Irrespective of whether they were brilliantly optimistic; or whether
they lugubriously crumbled every instant reminiscing the mortuaries of
the dreadfully asleep past,

Irrespective of whether they were unflinching patriots; or whether
they darted at the speed of lightening for cover; at the tiniest
insinuation of the most imperceptible danger,

Irrespective of whether they were blessedly fantasizing; or whether
they lecherously circumscribed their entire lives within the
constraints of the monotonously clerical corporate office,

Irrespective of whether they were unconquerably truthful; or whether
they were brutally trapped in satanically parasitic web of
lies—resorting to it inevitably to find that ultimate escape route in
today's manipulative world,

Irrespective of whether they existed on the freezing north pole; or
whether they compassionately warmed each ingredient of their blood
under majestic rays of the Sun; extreme south,

Irrespective of whether they conversed in articulate English; or
whether they uninhibitedly recharged the atmosphere with every
vibrancy of indigenous language that was spoken under the Sun,

Irrespective of whether they were the perfectly synchronized
gentlemen; or whether they resided in rustically mud baked
huts—bursting at the seams to accommodate an innumerable more of their
kind,

Irrespective of whether they were Christ fearing Christians; or
whether they were an equally Bhagwan/Allah/Buddha fearing 'Hindus'/
'Muslims'/ 'Buddhists' and every other sacred tribe on earth divine,

Irrespective of whether they wholeheartedly celebrated wondrous X-Mas;
or whether they zealously indulged in the lights and colors of;
'Holi', 'Diwali', 'Muharram', 'Id' and countless other sacred
festivals of the likes,

O! Yes—Irrespective of anything and everything---On the 31st of
December every year—all of them joined hands in one insuperable mass
together; embraced each other without the tiniest of discrimination
---to welcome the newest dawn of all times—the dawn of a joyously
happy new year—the first sunrise of a magical 1st January….

(c)(r)copyright by nikhil parekh. all rights reserved
 
»For Anything & Everything—Anytime & Anywhere…

 

When I needed just reassurance; I perhaps sought the company of my invincible mother the most—as a single look into her majestically befriending eyes—cleared an infinite complicated webs of an infinite dreaded lifetimes,

When I needed just discipline; I perhaps sought the company of my father the most—as a mere languid walk by his side—inevitably triggered each forlornly stagnating muscle of mine go taut—beyond the most unprecedented degrees of comprehension,

When I needed just enigma; I perhaps sought the company of midnight the most—as even the most obfuscated wisp of blackness engulfing me—transported me into a countless births of my past—and an umpteenth chapters of untamed sensuality,

When I needed just unrestraint; I perhaps sought the company of my sister the most—as her magnetically uninhibited poise perpetuated me to poignantly share all that I thought I never ever would—at any given space or time,

When I needed just truth; I perhaps sought the company of every new born child the most—as each heartfelt cry of theirs immortalized the spirit of my otherwise parasitically plagiarized existence,

When I needed just faithfulness; I perhaps sought the company of my daintily clad wife the most—as there was a perennial aura of fidelity that most royally radiated—from every bit of stony silence that otherwise enshrouded her,

When I needed just power; I perhaps sought the company of the unflinching Sun the most—staring into its impregnably undying rays and making them my wholesome fire to survive; amidst a pack of ghastly wolves,

When I needed just nostalgia; I perhaps sought the company of my charismatically tinkling grandmother the most—as with every chapter that she heart-renderingly narrated from her biography—I felt more insuperably closer to every thread of my golden past,

When I needed just mischief; I perhaps sought the company of my merrily laughing daughter the most—as she made me feel the most boisterously unabashed entity alive on earth—everytime we hurled raw pancakes of mud in crystal blue sky,

When I needed just humanity; I perhaps sought the company of every different religion around me the most—as I felt that united in a sea of unending color—together we became the most blessedly unconquerable civilization of oneness and of all times,

When I needed just enthrallment; I perhaps sought the company of vivacious nature the most-- as I felt life around me inexhaustibly vacillating in an entrenchment of divine ecstasy and eternal freedom of every single organism to survive,

When I needed just adventure; I perhaps sought the company of the undulating sea the most—as with each marvelously tangy wave that crashed against the rocks—I felt a new beginning in the effervescent white froth that rose once again towards the victorious sky,

When I needed just passion; I perhaps sought the company of scarlet blood in my veins the most—as I felt reborn with an infinite untainted muscles of self-belief---with its every uncurbed journey towards each beat of my heart,

When I needed just beauty; I perhaps sought the company of iridescent stars in sky the most---as they most enchantingly illuminated even the grotesquely stagnating entities on soil—to eventually become the uncrowned jewels of my eye,

When I needed just innocence; I perhaps sought the company of the sacrosanct cow the most—as no matter what ludicrously perverted garbage that the world abandoned her into to consume—all she still had to give to one and all was impeccable milk divine,

When I needed just lavishness; I perhaps sought the company of my whimsical grandfather the most—as he could virtually lay every priceless gift of the Universe at my feet—at even the tiniest of my babyishly false cry,

When I needed just exhilaration; I perhaps sought the company of virgin wind the most—as I felt magically transported to every wonderfully ameliorating footprint of heaven; everytime it sensuously caressed every roused pore of my shivering skin,

When I needed just fantasy; I perhaps sought the company of fathomless azure sky the most; as just sporadically gazing at its immortal open heart—linked me to every triumphantly surreal mist of heaven; even as I pathetically fizzled each day from a robotic 9 to 9,

But for anything & everything; anytime & anywhere, I humbly knelt down only infront of the lord; praying to him to be by sole guiding light; praying to him to let me remain as his worthless servant for an infinite more lifetimes…

©®copyright by nikhil parekh. all rights reserved
 
»Each time you lift the Cricket World Cup—We’re proud to be a true Indian….

 

Each time you enter the field in your royal robes of blue— it makes the hair of a billion of us stand up in uncanny excitement, high and handsome towards the sky,

Each time you wave to us from the dressing room—it makes a billion of us feel that we’re the most united family ever on surface of planet divine,

Each time you send the ball whistling past the boundary ropes—it makes the heart of a billion of us leap out of our chests- to magically blend with you, beat for beat,

Each time you perform your beautifully invincible huddle—it makes us a billion of us feel that India is the strongest nation of them all, wondrously breathing and alive,

Each time you take those daring catches under the blinding Sun—it makes a billion of us feel that ‘Impossible’ is really a word non-existent and in the dictionary of dead fools,

Each time you rattle the opposition stumps with mere disdain—it makes a billion of us instantly gobble the deadliest venom in our laps—like it was life-yielding honey,

Each time you smile even under the mightiest onslaught around you—it makes a billion of us grit our teeth in determination—to forever conquer every devil in and around us,

Each time you ease out for lunch and refreshing drinks—it makes a billion of us fervently pray for the most sweetest of your victory- as you restarted a fresh innings,

Each time you tensely glance towards the miserably overcast skies—it makes a billion of us exude into inexhaustible pools of cold sweat—losing our mood for everything else,

Each time you rekindle the atmosphere with your heroic fielding—it makes a billion of us take fresh birth once again and lay all our inexplicable sorrows to perennial rest,

Each time you collectively charge forward in a blood-curling appeal—it makes a billion of us want to enter the soul of the third umpire and rule every decision in your favor,

Each time you break records of even the slightest of denomination—it makes a billion of us salute our revered flag, in honor and glory of your majestically gallant prowess,

Each time you lay injured on the austere turf—it makes a billion of us inconsolably bleed in the innermost of our veins—wanting to be shoulder to each of your cries,

Each time you sportingly shake hands with the opposition even in face of defeat—it makes a billion of us feel that we’re not at war--but relishing cricket at its imperious best,

Each time you run down the pitch to perseveringly earn every invaluable run—it makes a billion of us feel the scent of our sacred motherland drift from you—even though a countless kilometers apart,

Each time you go for the kill even as the target loomed impossibly beyond your reach—it makes a billion of us feel that the air around us is our ultimate resuscitating paradise,

And each time you lift the ‘Cricket World Cup’ for us or even thought of doing that in your dreams—it makes a billion of us rediscover our forgotten identities, makes us feel that we’re proud to be an offspring of this great Indian soil—that we’re proud to be a true Indian.
 
»Mrs. Namita Shah---You mean the world to my child….

 

How can I thank you for all those bountiful values of goodness that you’ve so magically inculcated in my child’s innocent brain?

How can I thank you for so compassionately holding my child’s hand in an alien premises---when I wasn’t the slightest around to hear her inconsolable cries?

How can I thank you for making the whole process of monotonous studies—such an enchanting playground of richness for my child’s eyes?

How can I thank you for so beautifully taming my child into a symbiotically civilized angel—from an unruly doll only obsessed with her very own toys?

How can I thank you for so adeptly solving each barricade in the path of my child—as she indulged the first chords of her infinite mind into the whole process called ‘learning in school’?

How can I thank you for so magically triggering a smile on the face of my child—as she nervously fidgeted for her own space amidst several more of her kind?

How can I thank you for so magnanimously bearing with each bit of my child’s peskiness—converting each tear that dribbled from her eyes into the most perfect nursery rhyme of life?

How can I thank you for so thoughtfully introducing my child to each new aspect of school—letting her marvelously adjust to even the remotest component in the new atmosphere—at her very own pace?

How can I thank you for guarding my child like an invincible fortress of friendship—whilst teaching her the quintessential alphabets of knowledge at the same time?

How can I thank you for untiringly being the eyes of my child as she feebly weaved her way through each bit of unknown territory--- amongst the incredibly tall walls of her first school?

How can I thank you for observing even the most intricate development of my child—and then making constant persevering notes on how to improve her all round performance in the chapter called life?

How can I thank you for being the most adorable home for my child away from her real home---and being the most perfect mother for her and all her mates as well in mundane schooltime?

Well let me just start by saying Mrs. Shah ---‘That you mean the world to my child’ …..
 
»Greedy for that eternal blackness…

 

Greedy for that pricelessly invincible blackness that would vanquish every misery from my otherwise sinfully devastated soul; into wisps of obsolete nothingness,

Greedy for that sacredly ameliorating blackness that would metamorphose me into such an unbreakable state of calm—as unfazed as the blue skies-- even as murderous hell rained uncontrollably around,

Greedy for that magically omnipotent blackness that would annihilate every trace of disease from my inexplicably aggrieved physical form—transit me forever and ever and ever into mists of divinely rhapsody,

Greedy for that unflinchingly triumphant blackness that would forever make me one with an infinite more of my kind—that would end every ounce of sadistically commercial strife from the chapter of my sinful life,

Greedy for that unbelievably holy blackness that would eventually make me realize—that all of us who so pompously promote ourselves as
“ Iconic I’s ”all the time-- are just bits of nothing infront of the Almighty Lord,

Greedy for that ubiquitously majestic blackness that would perch me on the ultimate throne of humanity---where I perpetually embraced one and all irrespective of any barriers of caste; creed or the rapaciousness of time,

Greedy for that enchantingly fantastic blackness that would trigger me to fantasize beyond every realm of never-ending happiness---even in a state of morbidly limpid stillness,

Greedy for that ecstatically brilliant blackness that would make me a winner of all hearts and of all times---even as the ghastliest hell made way for the graveyards of prejudiced extinction around,

Greedy for that miraculously quiet blackness that would forever drift me from each tawdry earthly tension—into an infinite gorge where there cascaded only the cloudbursts of untamed love,

Greedy for that unassailably blessing blackness that would kiss my brow with all the bounteousness that God’s creations had to offer---without the most mercurial disruption by the blood-sucking human parasite,

Greedy for that eternally prosperous blackness that would ensure my state of perennial contentment for an infinite more years to unveil---enriching every drearily subjugated bone of mine with the power to conquer from even hell and beyond,

Greedy for that enigmatically inimitable blackness that would evoke every robotic pore of my skin to awaken in the land of the unknown---where every stranger that came confronted me; earnestly befriended me for countless a lifetime,

Greedy for that regally resplendent blackness that would reach me to the most cherished mission I dreamt all life---of being a humble slave listlessly suspended from the unshakable chariot of the Gods,

Greedy for that beauteously engulfing blackness that would help me assimilate the fragrance of all unabashed goodness from my life---so that the voice of the devil was subdued forever by the righteousness of the soul,

Greedy for that wondrously mollifying blackness that would uplift my impoverished jugglery of bones to either heaven or hell as destined---but atleast far away from the dreaded savagery of all misanthropic mankind,

Greedy for that astoundingly bestowing blackness that would liberate me of every conceivable sin of a banally monotonous lifetime---so that each new birth commenced with my conscience dancing in the aisles of freedom,

Greedy for that altruistically enamoring blackness that would sweep me forever of my feet---into a land where the most unheard of inscrutable tales would titillate my spine till beyond the threshold of no return,

And I’ve not the tiniest of inhibitions in revealing that the blackness I’m talking about is that of my veritable grave---that I humbly desire to be just infront of the mosque of my Omnipresent Creator---which eternally palpitated with the oneness of every religion and living being; alike….

©®copyright by nikhil parekh. all rights reserved.
 
»Whirpools of despondence

 

My mental imagery fluctuates,
As beads of sweat drip down voraciously,
Spearheads of steel stab my skin,
Plucking away huge chunks of my pristine flesh,
Chopping the crux of zealous activity,
Plundering me with the waves of dormant ecstasy,
Admonishing the dexterous web of drudgery,
Impersonation tingling sensations of existence,
Scrapping my reflection from mother earth,
In permanent accordance with the Creator.
 
»Where on earth can I find?

 

WHERE ON EARTH can I find a lotus flower; without the slightest of redolence,

Where on earth can I find an olive green coconut; without sweet kernel water,

Where on earth can I find an ocean; without majestically swirling waves of saline solvent,

Where on earth can I find a fleet of fat sheep; without infinite tufts of flocculent wool,

Where on earth can I find a royal horse gallivanting through the fields; without triangular shaped copper hooves,

Where on earth can I find a hooded reptile slithering through the dense forest; without lethal embodiments of poison,

Where on earth can I find a bundle of immaculate cotton; without profuse traces of softness,

Where on earth can I find an iridescent diamond; without a profoundly scintillating shine,

Where on earth can I find a stick of green chili; without a tangy and piquant flavor,

Where on earth can I find an infant; without obstreperously emanating cries,

Where on earth can I find granules of pulverized sugar; without traces of lingering sweetness,

Where on earth can I find a bird soaring high in the silken clouds; without tapered pairs of wings,

Where on earth can I find an innocuous squirrel; without a long and bushy tail,

Where on earth can I find a fulminating volcano; without producing tumultuous amounts of heat,

Where on earth can I find a mammoth elephant; without flamboyant protrusions of wild tusks,

Where on earth can I find a rainbow in the firmament of sky; without vivacious streaks of vivid color,

Where on earth can I find an animate soul transgressing; without inhaling gallons of fresh air,

Where on earth can I find a mother; without empathy for her newly born child,

Where on earth can I find god; without a philanthropic disposition towards his disciples,

And where on earth can I find a family; which hasn’t experienced the slightest of affliction; a family whose every single ancestor is yet breathing and alive?


(c) (r) copyright-2004, by nikhil parekh. all rights reserved
 
»Who cares?

 

WHO CARES WHETHER I slept on a furry quilt of satin or a blanket of acridly pointed thorns,

Who cares whether I ate in plates coated with scintillating silver or didn’t consume food at all,

Who cares whether I used perfumed soap to scrub my persona or bathed in water leaking abundantly from the gutters,

Who cares whether I wore linen suits blended with rich denim or was wandering in unscrupulous rags on the chilly streets,

Who cares whether I studied diligently browsing trough complicated literature or gallivanted through the country farm,

Who cares whether I took medicine in high fever or gulped sips of red wine to go off to sleep,

Who cares whether I played with ornately embellished soft toys or contented myself molding incongruous shapes in disdainful clay,

Who cares whether I traversed the streets in luxury sedans or spent marathon hours to reach my destination barefoot,

Who cares whether I deciphered mind boggling puzzles or smoked cigarettes incessantly on the house terrace,

Who cares whether I bought fresh fruits from the market or plucked them surreptitiously from the orchard tree,

Who cares whether I flew in the grandiloquent aircraft or swam across choppy waves of the ocean to witness the world,

Who cares whether I behaved somberly in front of my elders or barked a volley of abashing expletives at the same,

Who cares whether I clambered up stairs leading to the sacrosanct church or whiled away the whole of the day gambling for money,

Who cares whether I spent the afternoon relishing the cool air of the airconditioner or perspired like a bull under the sweltering sun,

Who cares whether I celebrated several festivals or feasted on intoxicating beer every night,

Who cares whether I trimmed my moustache scrupulously every day or let my beard grow the way it wanted; taking random roots,

Who cares whether I lead my life doing benevolent deeds or spent the remaining part of it in despicable jail,

Who cares whether I mixed in the high society or had a group of dreaded gangsters as my roommates and friends,

Who cares whether I had blissful dreams in the night or woke up with petrified jerks every ten minutes,

My parents had left when I was an innocuous kid; the treacherous tyranny of a car crash rendering them dead,

And the adulterated society in which I existed today had unanimously christened me an orphan,

Made me wholesomely numb to the spirit of love; made me forget the essence of the word care.



(c) (r) copyright-2004, by nikhil parekh. all rights reserved.
 
 
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