Monthly Archives: March 2010

Cute Creases .

They were marvelously royal undulations that broke the tyrannical
monotony of commercialized success – with magnanimous ease ,

They poignantly depicted those unbelievably ecstatic moments which
when blended with rhapsodic fantasy – constituted the newly wed
couples tryst with unparalleled delight,

They were a subject of awe-inspiring intrigue – leading to various
perceptions as to how they must’ve occurred – as people perched at the
edge of the king poster bed,

They effortlessly led the human panache – into the recesses of
uncannily plush imagination – into a land where impeccable pearls
cascaded unabashedly on layers of seductive existence,

They were majestic figments of impromptu artistry – evolving on their
own as sensuous silhouettes twisted and turned – in a natural desire
to rest in their journey on earth,

They held their very own inimitable identity – protruding like dainty
non-living prince and princesses – amidst the gargantuan expanse of
the silken sheet,

They uninhibitedly portrayed – that there was romantic existence
beyond ruthless realms of tawdrily barbarous office – which was an
indispensable constituent to be enjoyed ,

They appeared brilliantly charismatic and replenished with charmed
fables of the yesteryear – as the Sun’s blistering rays caressed them
in the thick of the afternoon,

They might’ve been inconspicuously withering in size – but swelled up
into a formidably united cluster of togetherness – when beaten or
ironed or rattled or mauled,

They were a true artist’s delight – his quintessential source of
inspiration as he danced his flamboyant paintbrush upon the barren
canvas – nudging and tickling them with his thumb and little finger,

They were a lover’s flight of triumphant fantasy – as he sprinkled
petals of profoundly scarlet rose beside them – to form an enamoring
oasis that lit up the serene night,

They mollified even the tiniest ounces of apprehension with their
phlegmatic twirls ; curls ; swirls and furls – dancing in unfettered
abandon as the exuberant breeze slapped on their dead periphery,

They personified the true spirit of unmatched independence – a
classical example of an untidiness which appeared a darling amidst a
monstrous rat-race to survive,

They were the philanthropic road taken – tantalizing the goodness of a
person to come forth – to come good – after a rejuvenating night’s
sleep ; rolling against them,

They formed so tranquilly without an ounce of extra effort or
agonizing manual pain – unlike their counterpart concrete tiled peaks
which took assiduous expertise and skill of masons; working on the
sloping roof of the house,

They followed no particular religion as they were an artificially dead
mass – though people bonded majestically into the religion of
invincible humanity – rolling and spontaneously whistling – on them ,

They added that indispensably vivid splice to the photographs snapped
– blissfully blended in the Kingly backdrop of the wall; curtain;
window and pillow,

They looked exuberantly endearing with butterflies and birds nestled
on them ; perceiving their minuscule peaks as hillocks to have a
ravishing feast upon ,

Thus – it is my humble plea to you benevolent people – that please
don’t straighten these immaculately princely “Creases” – that lay
perched so non-invasively on your fabulously unmade bedsheets .

©®copyright by nikhil parekh . all rights reserved .

To My Mother – Best wishes on your fascinating Birthday .

The lady that personified unassailable grace , treading on the most impeccable marble of her choice,

The wife who was irrefutably loyal to her husband , in the motley situations that the exhilarating chapter of life had to offer,

The dutiful patron who embellished various spaces of her aristocratic farmhouse , with the choicest artifacts, figurines, statuettes and shrubs that she found with ease,

The daughter who skipped meals sporadically; earnestly concerned about her mother’s health; which was one of her most predominant priority as of now,

The uninhibited shopper who took rhapsodic delight in replenishing the shelves of her household – with the most robustly royal fruits to devour,

The grandmother who absolutely and profoundly doted on her grandchild , fulfilling the tiniest of her demands with toys befitting a grandiose princess,

The astounding philanthropist who would often lend all her meals to brutally famished street dogs and cats – and then cuddle them as if they were an inevitable constituent of her family,

The fantasizer who granted invincibly concrete shapes to her beautiful myriad of thoughts ; as she persevered in her natural capacity to salvage her very own inimitable identity on the trajectory of this planet,

The friend who patiently listened to the unprecedented agonies of her mates – empowered their lives with her intriguing jokes; wit; laughter and congenial charisma,

The aunt who was ready impromptu to shoulder responsibility of the most distant of her relatives ; without the slightest trace of prejudice and malice – and as life demanded her to benevolently react,

The mother-in-law who had her share of irate squabbles with her daughter-in-law which was perfectly natural ; but yet at the same time made her welcome at home as she’d come far away leaving her own abode,

And most importantly ‘my mother’ for whom I was the unconquered best in the world – no matter what anyone said- and her belief in my poetry being the quintessential backbone of my impoverished mortal existence,

Here’s wishing you a very ‘Happy Birthday’ on this joyously enthralling day of the 24th March , 2010 .

©®copyright by nikhil parekh . all rights reserved .

Let them get married .

Shouldn’t he have put a trifle more of powder on his cheeks – as they
appeared an edge too shoddy for spinning intrigue?
Shouldn’t she have dipped her face in pure lemon extract ; in order to
render that irresistibly profound glow over her otherwise bedraggled
contours .

Shouldn’t he have opted for that clandestinely charming hair dye –
transforming his unruly strands from a nondescript black to a majestic
red?
Shouldn’t she have left her hair uninhibited and ravishingly waving in
exuberant wisps of breeze – rather than stingily tying them up into an
impoverished looking bun .

Shouldn’t he have worn those royally swashbuckling sunglasses – that
would’ve blown away the daylights of every nimble damsel in poignant
vicinity?
Shouldn’t she have left her eyes beautifully bare and in their rustic
glory – rather than unnecessarily smudging them with abominable
mascara.

Shouldn’t he have stringently clipped the unruly strands of hair
protruding from his ear – employing the services of the most
contemporary of saloons ?
Shouldn’t she have worn earrings of aristocratically pure gold –
rather than letting traditional threads of simpleton black dangle
languidly and dulling the ambience which seemed already dead .

Shouldn’t he have worn that pompously purple scarf round his neck –
that’d have displayed his gentlemanly streak ; lost as of now in the
horrendously hardcore business suit ?
Shouldn’t she have chosen a dress which was more in snobbish
satisfaction rather than the gaudy color that she now wore –
unleashing her unceremoniously slapstick
choice .

Shouldn’t he have worn feather shaped boots perpetuating that true
tryst with royalty which he richly deserved – rather than
transgressing on the reception stage barefoot to create a mockery of a
hype ?
Shouldn’t she have worn queenly slippers that vividly demonstrated her
fantastically proportioned height – rather than create a pandemonium
with her noisy high-heeled sandals – that made her shoot ridiculously
through the roof .

Shouldn’t he have worn plain rings of eclectic sizes that set the
night ablaze with gaiety and style – rather than deliberately
demonstrating the masculinity of his bohemian hand?
Shouldn’t she have left her palms pristinely barren as she’d come into
this planet – rather than embedding them with a motley of every
conceivable tattoo available over the shelf – to stand out amidst the
celebrities of the town .

Shouldn’t he have shaved the parsimoniously extruding stubs of his
beard and moustache – rather than appearing like a clown who genuinely
wanted to entertain people flocked around ?
Shouldn’t she have puffed fragrant powder on her face atleast – rather
than deserting it with nonchalant soap – and then let mosquitoes find
a feasible space to feast on her demure silhouette .

Shouldn’t he have carried a princely pen in his waist pocket – rather
than deplorably borrowing the same and then squandering in shame – to
sign all associated legalities?
Shouldn’t she have meticulously fitted a purse to make her attire look
enthralling– and at the same time appear a perfect symbol of societal
sophistication – complete .

Shouldn’t he have brandished a traditional sword to blend in
magnificently with his jubilant persona – rather than walk the red
carpet with shoulders hunched in the unpredictability of tomorrow ?
Shouldn’t she have built her stage as an invincibly alluring helipad –
ushering in a high powered aircraft straight into the avenue – and
leaving photographers / relatives in stunned delight .

Shouldn’t he have played the perfect host of melanging with the crowd
which had come so optimistically from remote corners of the town –
displaying some hospitability – rather than sonorously contemplating
as to when these spurious formalities would come to an abrupt end ?
Shouldn’t she have stayed as silent as white ice that personified high
class dignity at its best – rather than giving her piece of cynical
advise interspersed with abuse towards those who’d come uninvited .

Shouldn’t he have hugged her first – rather than fiercely tugging at
his rather atrociously oversized suit – in mere apprehension of it
leaving his frail silhouette anytime ?
Shouldn’t she also have hugged him first – rather than adjusting her
morosely flattened make-up – which in the process became more
pathetically beleaguered than ever before .

Hey Folks . Its time for you to involve yourself into other and better
pastimes .

There they were – both of them innocently about to enter into threads
of holy matrimony – least bothered about their appearances today, when
the most important thing in the world to them was to marry by God’s
grace ,

Therefore give them a break . Let them get married .

©®copyright by nikhil parekh. All rights reserved.