Nikhil Parekh - Indian Poet


I felt unrelentingly strangulated; with exhausted blasts of wind emanating from my nose, 


Gloominess besieging me with tumultuous force; piercing through my innocuous heart, 


An ocean of sweat dribbled down at astoundingly slow speed; trespassing my brow, 


The crispness of my shirt; now transited into a completely bedraggled texture, 


An inevitable sensation to scratch engulfed my naked skin; and intricate areas of sandwiched between the curly mass of my hair, 


A fetid odor wafting from my mouth; permeated the rustically plush ambience, 


Incessant shuffling of my feet; made me feel intensely uncomfortable, 


Trapped mosquitoes stung succulent chunks of my flesh; inundating my palms with embarrassing blemishes, 


My hands felt stiff; starved and thoroughly deprived of the tiniest of movement, 


Folds of my skin camouflaging my eye felt heavy; my vision growing disconcertingly blurred by the unleashing minute, 


A plethora of jerks rattled the most tenacious of my bone; waking me up every second from my blissful reveries, 


that is when I unabashedly shouted in the luxury car, to switch of 


the air-conditioner please.



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Switch Of The Air-Conditioner Please

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