Hide and Seek - Part 6 - Rhyming & Non Rhyming Poems by Nikhil Parekh - HTML preview

PLEASE NOTE: This is an HTML preview only and some elements such as links or page numbers may be incorrect.
Download the book in PDF, ePub, Kindle for a complete version.

11. THE AIR WHICH MY MOTHER BREATHED

 

The air leaking form the air-conditioner was ergonomically cold,

Pacifying tumultuous anger of people; frantically quarreling in the acrimonious summer heat.

 

The air diffusing from the ground; after fresh spells of monsoon rain,

Possessed a heavenly aroma of unbaked grass; tantalizing the nostrils into a partial stupor.

 

The air emanating from saline waves of the ocean; was blended with fine spray of sand,

Revived nostalgic reminisces of the evanescent past; impregnating the body with the spirit of adventure.

 

The air in close proximity with parched sands of desert; was like a sizzling inferno,

Was not conducive to breathe; provoking loud yelps and screams when caressed by nimble pair of feet.

 

The air prevailing at astronomical heights of the mountain precipice; was astoundingly thin,

Leading to austere problems of suffocation; camouflaging the face with mighty cylinders of oxygen.

 

The air floating in the dilapidated mansion; was blended with truckloads of dust,

Prompted iterative bouts of sneezing; had an obnoxious stench of dead rat and literature.

 

The air circulating in the cake shop; was ingratiatingly ravishing,

Inundating innumerable bowels with insatiable hunger; acting as an inevitable stimulant to eat.

 

The air revolving round the dense foliage of trees; was as pure as an angel,

Expurgating its harmful ingredients into the blanket of leaves; acquiring the sedate calm of shining moon.

 

The air imprisoned inside a rubber balloon; died a gruesome death every unleashing minute,

Got perpetual freedom in the end; as the contraption burst with obstreperous bangs.

 

The air that flowed out of humid nostrils; was luke warm in temperature,

Revealing a plethora of passion captivated within the soul; highlighting the zest to lead life.

 

And the air my mother hissed down my persona; was the most immaculate of

them all,

For it was the very air that had created me; the air that had articulately nourished my arms and feet,

The air which had made me actually witness; the atmosphere I was engulfed by; at the reigning moment.