Nikhil Parekh - Indian Poet
He had fanatic obsessions for bulging trouser pockets,
overloaded sockets of office shirt,
silver chains fitted neatly to periphery of neck,
all kinds of heavy purse dangling from shoulder bone,
jeweled rings adorning daintily curved fingers,
beads of slim gold riveted firmly to ear lobe,
portable briefcase bags carried by executive staff,
bronze plated ribbons holding a bunch of hair,
he was a maniac patrolling through the busy city streets,
sighting stashed trouser shelves with his hawk sharp eyes,
waiting to capsize on every stealing opportunity that came his way.
the passenger ahead had protruding pockets,
a short thick neck flooded with precious ornament,
he looked like a prince waiting for the bus,
with gold rimmed glasses nestling on his thin nose.
the maniac couldn't resist any longer,
long hours of wait had tantalized burglar zones of his mind,
saliva dribbled from his mouth in plenty,
his eyes lit up like briquette's of burning coal,
sly smiles encompassed wide corners of his mouth,
professional fingers now moved stealthily,
maneuvered skillfully caressing bulging outlines of the pocket,
few swipes with cheap blade finished the job,
the passenger now felt light as he alighted the bus,
great chunks of his wealth now lay in cold hands of the maniac,
all he was left to confront was a big gaping hole,
torn threads emanating from infinite regions of the stripped pant pocket.
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Kleptomania
Kleptomania
