Cute Creases. Poem by Nikhil Parekh

Cute Creases.



They were marvelously royal undulations that broke the tyrannical monotony of commercialized success - with magnanimous ease,

They poignantly depicted those unbelievably ecstatic moments which when blended with rhapsodic fantasy - constituted the newly wed couples tryst with unparalleled delight,

They were a subject of awe-inspiring intrigue - leading to various perceptions as to how they must've occurred - as people perched at the edge of the king poster bed,

They effortlessly led the human panache - into the recesses of uncannily plush imagination - into a land where impeccable pearls cascaded unabashedly on layers of seductive existence,

They were majestic figments of impromptu artistry - evolving on their own as sensuous silhouettes twisted and turned - in a natural desire to rest in their journey on earth,

They held their very own inimitable identity - protruding like dainty non-living prince and princesses - amidst the gargantuan expanse of the silken sheet,

They uninhibitedly portrayed - that there was romantic existence beyond ruthless realms of tawdrily barbarous office - which was an indispensable constituent to be enjoyed,

They appeared brilliantly charismatic and replenished with charmed fables of the yesteryear - as the Sun's blistering rays caressed them in the thick of the afternoon,

They might've been inconspicuously withering in size - but swelled up into a formidably united cluster of togetherness - when beaten or ironed or rattled or mauled,

They were a true artist's delight - his quintessential source of inspiration as he danced his flamboyant paintbrush upon the barren canvas - nudging and tickling them with his thumb and little finger,

They were a lover's flight of triumphant fantasy - as he sprinkled petals of profoundly scarlet rose beside them - to form an enamoring oasis that lit up the serene night,

They mollified even the tiniest ounces of apprehension with their phlegmatic twirls; curls; swirls and furls - dancing in unfettered abandon as the exuberant breeze slapped on their dead periphery,

They personified the true spirit of unmatched independence - a classical example of an untidiness which appeared a darling amidst a monstrous rat-race to survive,

They were the philanthropic road taken - tantalizing the goodness of a person to come forth - to come good - after a rejuvenating night's sleep; rolling against them,

They formed so tranquilly without an ounce of extra effort or agonizing manual pain - unlike their counterpart concrete tiled peaks which took assiduous expertise and skill of masons; working on the sloping roof of the house,

They followed no particular religion as they were an artificially dead mass - though people bonded majestically into the religion of invincible humanity - rolling and spontaneously whistling - on them,

They added that indispensably vivid splice to the photographs snapped - blissfully blended in the Kingly backdrop of the wall; curtain; window and pillow,

They looked exuberantly endearing with butterflies and birds nestled on them; perceiving their minuscule peaks as hillocks to have a ravishing feast upon,

Thus - it is my humble plea to you benevolent people - that please don't straighten these immaculately princely Creases - that lay perched so non-invasively on your fabulously unmade bedsheets.

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Nikhil Parekh

Nikhil Parekh

Dehradun, India
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