Nikhil Parekh - Indian Poet
If i forgot to tightly seal the projecting water tap,
gallons of liquid would dribble unrelentingly,
there would not be a solitary droplet of liquid in the overhead tank,
and my body would acquire an unwashed disposition all throughout the
sweltering day.
if i obdurately refrained from closing my mouth,
flooding the air with cacophonic webs of my husky voice,
intricate regions of my throat would divested of moisture,
causing me to cough and sputter when i needed my speech the most.
if i intentionally kept the fluorescent bulb on in the day,
with acerbic rays of sunlight filtering through my moistened eyes,
the contrivance would shatter to infinite splinters,
portraying a lackluster appearance when i desired it inevitably in the night.
if i heard deafening tunes of blaring music all day,
with the decibels ricocheting to supreme frequencies of intolerance,
my ears would get immune to the fragility of sound,
being paralyzed to decipher the melodious sound of nocturnal cuckoo.
if i consumed mighty barrels of milk; instead of crystalline water,
quenching irresistible pangs of thirst with pints of artificial milk,
my body would expurgate all the richness,
demanding the perennial gift of nature to be fed immediately.
and if i ran restlessly all stormy night,
without having a siesta in despicable heat of the day,
my legs would collapse midway on the bustling street,
transforming my persona into a temporary coma,
penalizing me just a fraction for breaking bonds with essential rudiments of nature.
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Broken Bonds
Broken Bonds
