Nikhil Parekh - Indian Poet


When I was just born; freshly emanating the first cry of my life, 


The world outside seemed an obsolete haze to my eyes; which searched frantically amidst all alien; for my place in this vast globe.


 


When I grew up a trifle; the bones impregnated in my persona now molding their way beneath my skin, 


The world outside seemed to be as raw as the ethereal rays of vespered dawn; and my eyes were lost in profusely absorbing the magnificent beauty of this enchanting Universe.


 


When I bounced and frolicked in the lawns of kindergarten; just learning to 


converse with my elders, 


The world outside seemed to be stupendously blossoming to my eyes; and I inadvertently stumbled upon more than a million things every unfurling minute.


 


When I catapulted into my teens; the crimson blood incarcerated in my veins circulating faster than thunderbolts of white electricity, 


The world outside seemed an island of untamed romance to my eyes; with my heartbeats insatiably longing for the ultimate love of my life.


 


When I stepped into the corridors of robust youth; a fleet of exhilarated muscle now leaving a poignant impression on my rubicund flesh, 


The world outside seemed a manipulative playground to my eyes; with an insurmountable desire to earn my own bread now overwhelming everything else prevailing in the atmosphere.


 


When I bonded into threads of holy matrimony; taking a sacrosanct vow in front of the Creator; to walk stepby step with my newly embellished bride, 


The world outside seemed a blend of fantasy and pragmatic reality to my eyes; with each hour at work; tumultuously reinvigorating my desire to spend countless hours under compassionately fiery breath under pearly midnight.


 


When I procreated new blood of my own; a flurry of God's most mesmerizing creation nestling innocuously on my shoulders, 


The world outside seemed a fabulous paradise to my eyes; and even though I was unfathomably penurious; the innocent voices of my children catapulted me


infinite kilometers beyond blissful heaven.


 


When I inevitably had to taste disdainfully crippling old age; the color of my skin now painstakingly withering towards thin wisps of remote oblivion, 


The world outside seemed an acrimonious thorn to my eyes; with the very people whom I had fostered in my times of Herculean strength; now trampling  indiscriminately over my integrity.


 


And when I was about to take my last breath; horrifically writhing in unsurpassable agony to bid my last adieu to this planet, 


The world outside seemed like when I was just born to my eyes; everything so fresh; everything so hazy; everything so me; and even though I died; I felt that the chapter of existence had begun once again.



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The World Outside

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