Nikhil Parekh

(27/08/1977 / Dehradun, India)

home sweet home


I might have euphorically gallivanted to the absolute
summit of the rhapsodic mountain; and handsomely
kissed the gloriously vivacious crescent of seductive
rainbow,
I might have unrelentingly waded through the
poignantly salty oceans; dancing till unsurpassable
eternity with the resplendently enamoring dolphins,
I might have timelessly philandered through the
mystically jubilant forests; rhythmically
acclimatizing my ebulliently racing pulse; with the
enigmatically tantalizing rustling of fresh leaves,
I might have fervently rolled on titillating mud;
encapsulating even the most infinitesimal arena of my
exploring demeanor; with profoundly rejuvenating
ecstasy,
But eventually at the end of the optimistic day and as
the Sun eventually transcended blissfully past the
ethereal horizons; there was nothing as
compassionately comforting; as HOME; SWEET HOME….
1…..
I might have relentlessly bathed under the gorgeously
sparkling waterfalls; wholesomely oblivious to even
the most ardent puff of breath that ecstatically
descended down my nostrils,
I might have mischievously flirted with fathomless
nubile maidens; playing games of voluptuous hide and
seek; as the thunderbolts of rain pelted torrentially
from crimson sky,
I might have embarked on the most exhilarating
expedition of my lifetime; audaciously leaping towards
the clouds; as the entrenchment of perennially silken
dawn engulfed one and all; holistically alike,
I might have disdainfully lost track of pragmatic
time; as I endlessly fantasized beyond the realms of
eternally sacrosanct paradise,
But at the end of the enlightening day and as the Sun
eventually disappeared in wholesome entirety for the
remainder of the ghastly night; there was nothing as
Omnisciently gratifying; as HOME; SWEET HOME….
2….
I might have tirelessly recounted tales of
ingratiating adventure; to the entire planet;
fulminating into a reservoir of bubbling enthusiasm as
each second unleashed into a wholesome minute,
I might have unflinchingly faced the most truculently
acrimonious of winds; towering as an apostle of
irrefutable righteousness; by the grace of Almighty
Lord,
I might have arisen like streaks of uncontrollable
lightening in the middle of the night; to
eccentrically reminisce the most marvelously majestic
moments of my diminutively impoverished existence,
I might have astoundingly evolved a boundless fountain
of creativity; on even the most indigenously
dilapidated path; that I nimbly transgressed,
But at the end of the unassailable day and as the Sun
eventually whispered a fugitive adieu to the gigantic
sky; there was nothing as philanthropically uniting;
as HOME; SWEET HOME….
3….
I might have inherently inherited an uncanny ability
of articulately using my fingers; to encompass the
colossal beauty of this wonderfully panoramic planet;
in the canvas of my immaculately tiny palms,
I might have incessantly chortled into tornadoes of
frolicking happiness; perpetually smiling even in the
most disastrously ungainly moments of penalizing
existence,
I might have tossed in a restless inferno of unending
excitement; conceiving the most spell bindingly
fantastic vibrations on this Omnipotent earth,
I might have vociferously placed my footstep on every
single cranny of this unfathomably fantastic planet;
indefatigably discovering the charisma in God's most
sacred atmosphere; till the very last beat of my
heart; and with my minuscule little mind,
But at the end of the benign day and as the Sun
eventually paid its last tributes to regally
aristocratic brightness; there was nothing as
pricelessly humanitarian; as HOME; SWEET HOME. 

Submitted: Sunday, August 17, 2014

Topic(s): poetry


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