Life = Death - Volume 4 - Poems on Life , Death by Nikhil Parekh - HTML preview

29. ONLY AFTER 

Bathing in an chilled ocean of champagne; consuming small sips of the same

with stupendous relish,

Climbing the peak of the snow clad alps; feasting the panoramic view of the

gorgeous valley, 

Driving flamboyant cars at whirlwind speeds; wildly careening through the

colossal expanse of the highway,

Impulsively sketching intricate shapes of brave stalwarts; portraying their charisma to the mundane world,

Tenaciously biting into obdurate chunks of farm apple; reducing the succulent fruit to pulp,

Voraciously rolling in a slurry of wet mud; getting intensely tickled by the poignant aroma,

Riding on bare camelback through the arid regions of the desert; profoundly enjoying the golden sands,

Scrubbing my entire silhouette with an extract of piquant green chili; breathing fumes of boiling gas from my nose,

Embellishing my spouse with the most exquisite of jewelry; inundating her parted hair with crimson vermilion,

Gyrating to blasting music diffusing from the discotheque; swirling uninhibitedly till wee hours of evanescent dawn,

Decoding the most baffling of enigmas; innovating a plethora of contrivances to assist the commoner,

Soaring high in the air strapped tightly to an inflated balloon; whistling in unison with the passing birds,

Swimming onerously against the high rising waves; swallowing pinches of frothy

water in my famished mouth, 

Staring unrelentingly at the sapphire sky; trying to unveil the vagaries of

life in the twinkling stars,

Roasting a battalion of sumptuous fish on hot embers of coal; chewing the same

scrupulously entangling the pointed bones,

Languishing sedately on a mattress of pure silk; bouncing sporadically on the

flocculent cotton,

Perspiring like a pig under the sweltering heat of Sun God; bustling robustly  in the fervor of youth,

Gallivanting on the streets casually attired; passing chivalrous smiles to all I  encountered,

Amalgamating torn pieces of rags; meticulously with the metallic bodkin,

Molding threadbare lumps of greasy wax; into a grandiloquent statue,

Garrulously conversing the entire day with innocuous children; reminiscing my childhood days,

Pinching swollen paper bags with my nail; thereby producing obstreperous bangs,

Polishing the enamel of my teeth incessantly with rustic sticks of tree bark; granting them a perpetual sparkle,

Embossing infinite lines of calligraphy on bonded paper; transforming its pallid persona into one embedded with literary compositions,

Inscribing her name on my chest with a switchblade; imprisoning her close to my heart,

Philandering across umpteenth places of the globe; absorbing the enchanting mysticism of natural forest,

Serving humanity with all my might; extending my services to all those deprived of indispensable vision,

Yes this is no kidding; the above mentioned blended with bountiful more,

Only after which I would like to relinquish breath; and leave for my heavenly abode.