Life = Death - Volume 6 - Poems on Life , Death by Nikhil Parekh - HTML preview

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40. THEY DIDN'T SPARE ME EVEN AFTER MY DEATH

 

When I was just born; witnessing the first rays of brilliant dawn,

swinging innocuously in my rustic cradle; with intricate bells jingling over

my forehead,

they asked me whether I wanted honey or frosty milk.

 

When I grew a little older; crawling onerously on my spongy pair of feet, 

crying effusively; emitting volatile tears from my cheek,

They asked me whether; I wanted a toy; embracing and hoisting me high in

their arms.

 

When I started going to school; voraciously pedaling my dilapidated bicycle,

Chewing my crimson colored lips; which superbly blended with my babyish

white tinge,

They asked me insistently; about the marks I had secured in my arithmetic paper.

 

When I scrupulously passed high school; passing with exorbitant marks in a

plethora of subjects,

The surreal days of childhood; now an evanescent memory of the past,

They asked me the arenas I was going to specialize; trying to decode my aptitude towards life.

 

When I transited to realms of youth; with impetuous blood circulating in slender veins,

Bulging muscles protruding from the flimsy fabric of my knitted shirt,

They asked me; the ways and indispensable means to perspire in the Sun and earn.

 

When I procreated a battalion of progeny  of my own,

Devoting infinite hours of the day; catering to their boisterous demands,

They asked me; whether the children were mine or did I adopt them.

 

When I acquired the form of an old man; with grizzly hair encompassing my scalp,

An ocean of bones drooping in my body; with gaping holes clearly visible as I blatantly opened my mouth,

They asked me; how much I had achieved in the tenure of my life,

Trying to test reserve levels of my prevailing endurance.

 

And eventually when I departed for my heavenly abode; succumbing to

perils of old age,

The amalgamate of supple flesh and bones in my body; reduced to sacrosanct ash,

They mercilessly asked the cause of my death; the amount of affluence I had accumulated and now safely stored.