Do I write poetry to be in due obeisance of the Omnipotent Lord and
his perpetual Universe of effervescent creations; admire his
Omniscient glory which destined every life- beyond every science could
ever dare to be or do?
Do I write poetry to slacken the strings of my otherwise frenetically
estranged heart; so that it commenced to sing the tunes of the most
bountifully mellifluous of an existence?
Do I write poetry to admire the fathomless terrains of lush green
grass and bizarre barrenness alike; which maneuvered my brain to
perceive of the stark candidness of God’s inscrutable creation?
Do I write poetry to languish in the aisles of unfettered desire;
fantasy and charm; as the ruthless monotony of the betraying planet
got more and more sinfully robotized outside?
Do I write poetry to celestially mollify the agony of my restlessly
bohemian fingers; which inherently felt that the best shape they could
ever give to blessed life-was in the form of surreal tantalizing
Do I write poetry to paint the canvas of this triumphantly undying
Universe in an ocean of alphabets; all of ravishing sizes; shapes and
forms to evolve the most royally vivid moments and memories of all
Do I write poetry to tantalize every cranny of the living brain to
dream beyond realms of the unknown; take a much deserved break from
the rigmarole of survival and astoundingly levitate to the hilt of the
Do I write poetry to metamorphose every soul inflamed in abhorrent
terrorism and gloom; into an evergreen field of miraculous flowers
which forever bloomed into the mists of love?
Do I write poetry to perennially tingle the chords of a flagrantly
dying imagination; to rise high and handsome from the fetid corpse and
emboss the definition of a whole new optimistic dawn with the imprint
Do I write poetry to grant even the most infinitesimal droplet of
sweat of my flailing form; the status of a King; a King who crafts his
own kingdom of desire with the insatiable intensity of his existence?
Do I write poetry to make love to every organism symbiotically alive;
as the poetic waterfall of infallible beauty; unflinchingly rose above
every circumcised definition of caste; creed; religion; color and
tribe—forever bonding with a united singleton mass of love?
Do I write poetry to rhapsodically transport into golden days of
childhood; bring out that very untamed freshness of innocuous creation
in every piece of verse that timeslessly yearns to trace its
Do I write poetry to do justice to the best asset of my life; which I
intrinsically believe has been bestowed upon me by the Omnipresent
Lord; and which I wanted to pursue since my very first fiery breath?
Do I write poetry to find what they called heavenly paradise after
death; right here in the throes of castrated confusion and sadistic
war; rampantly ravaging through the divinely fabric of mother soil?
Do I write poetry to pursue the inevitable magnetic pull towards every
nerve of my beleaguered persona; which solely led me into the
corridors of panoramic fantasy reigning supreme till the very end?
Do I write poetry to express the innermost feelings of my soul in the
most articulate manner possible; when whatever other expression that I
leaned upon– seemed a complete insane balderdash to the planet
Do I write poetry to woo the most horrendous of my foes to perpetually
unite with me; then undauntedly surge forward with them together to
befriend every despairing shadow out there; in the blessed cradle of
Do I write poetry to give back to the globe all the goodness that it
copiously sprinkled on me; made me feel worthwhile and alive whilst
finding my own foothold on ground; which by God’s grace was the very
foundation for all these poetic lines?
Do I write poetry to experience being the richest man alive till times
beyond infinity; irrespective of whether the markets rose or fall;
irrespective of whether there was a cloth on my body or not—simply
and solely based on the power of my effulgent thought?
Do I write poetry to live and to die without the tiniest of
hesitation; treat both these aspects of unimpeachable existence
wondrously alike; and as the ultimate gifts from the heaven of the
Well Well. Some of you would kill me or let me live irrespective of my
saying a “Yes” or “No” to all of the above….
So let me just “Live” or “Die” –whatever’s destined—by holding my
head high and equal amongst you. And say what I’ve always wanted to
(c)(R)copyright by Nikhil Parekh. All rights reserved.