Nikhil Parekh - Indian Poet


Although there mightn't be the most bucolic insinuation of light around; with every conceivable ingredient of the atmosphere being gruesomely circumscribed with 


a coffin of darkness, 


 


Although every leaf around might have slept an infinite hours ago; with nothing but perpetual stillness being the mantra of the lugubriously sullen evening, 


 


Although every trace of exuberantly ecstatic wind around might have subsided to infinitesimally ethereal dust; with every commercial activity on this fathomless planet coming to an absolute standstill, 


 


Although there might not be the tiniest trace of civilization around; with even the most obsolete shadows of bizarrely treacherous ghosts dogmatically refraining from listlessly floating in free space, 


 


Although the stars might be completely obfuscated in mystical sky; by a viciously thunderous blanket of voluptuously titillating clouds, 


 


Although the enigmatically cavorting spiders around might have transited into unbreakable sleep; with orphaned strands of their royal webs; now disintegrating into a boundless bits of nothingness, 


 


Although the exotically spell binding flowers around might have invidiously crumbled into a disorientedly befuddled heap; with every of their once enchantingly redolent petals now coalescing with wisps of worthlessness, 


 


Although the waves of the ebulliently rhapsodic sea around might have drowned into feckless extinction; with nothing but unimaginably heartless space taking 


insidious and complete control, 


 


Although even the most subservient element of squelched moisture around might have dried to a ghastly death; with ludicrously imperturbable austerity forever  reigning supreme, 


 


Although the uninhibited cries of the newborn around might have horrifically asphyxiated; with even the sound of a mercurial pin irrevocably restraining to 


come from the ground, 


 


Although the unlimitedly gigantic shadows around might have surreptitiously enveloped every conceivable object in vicinity; with the eyes finding it overwhelmingly difficult to sagaciously discern between the black and scintillatingly white, 


Although the innocuously whispering grasshoppers around might have surrendered themselves in mind; body and spirit; to graveyards of horrifically dumb silence, 


 


Although the thunderously resonating echoes around might have pathetically dissolved into a mortuary of decrepit emptiness; resigning to the inevitably 


acerbic unveiling of time, 


 


Although the inanely fragile footprints around might have shrunk into the aisles of dastardly oblivion; with agglomerated conviviality being a remorsefully far cry, 


 


Although the spirit of unflinchingly fearless patriotism might have ridiculously dwindled around; with unbelievably peaceful sighs replacing the triumphantly blazing clanging of the impregnable swords, 


 


Although the minute hand and hour hand of the grandfather clock around might have remained irretrievably agglutinated at the same spot; even as 


time rampantly sped by, 


 


Although every speck of brilliant versatility around might have metamorphosed into a miserably slavering well of abysmal nonchalance; with even the most miraculously galloping inspiration fading under the midday Sun, 


 


Although every breath around might have subsided into the realms of hell even before one could inhale it out; and each wisp of life might have grotesquely


died, 


 


O! Yes; Even if the entire earth around might have closed its eyes or come to a perpetually disillusioned standstill: Remember that the most fugitively frigid


action of yours was being ardently watched by the Omnipotent Lord Almighty; so watch your step dear mate; and make sure that it treads towards righteousness; righteousness and just immortally humanitarian and symbiotically unconquerable


righteousness; whenever you dare to tread.



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The Lord Was Watching You

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