You Die; I Die - Love Poems - Part 5 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.

29. LIVING DEAD 

 

Blind me gruesomely for life; emptying the entire canister of piquant red chili powder into my innocuous eyes,

 

Cut each of my fingers mercilessly; with the hostile pair of cleavers gleaming menacingly beside the kitchen sink,

 

Ridicule me severely in public; ostracizing me for my plethora of misdeeds; stripping me naked in the heart of the city,

 

Break a bulky cluster of rotten eggs on my scalp; giving me dead scorpion stuffed between stale bread; to forcefully munch for breakfast,

 

Snap the brakes of my car deliberately before I left in the morning; so that the automobile plummeted horrendously into the steep valley; eventually exploding and charring me into a cloud of black plumes,

 

Hurl a battalion of abuses at me every night before I drifted into tranquil sleep; addressing me by ghastly names that I had never envisaged in the wildest of my

dreams,

 

Spit at me all the saliva loitering freely in your mouth; vomiting on my face all the foul food which you had consumed for lunch last afternoon,

 

Put a slab of pugnacious thorns beneath my head; instead of the fir coated and silken pillow,

 

Give me acid to drink instead of mineral water; uncouthly assassinating the intricate intestines encompassed within my stomach,

 

Completely empty my bank account; spending each penny of my hard earned money on bombastic clothes you cherished and adored,

 

Kick me in my rear like a stray dog wandering on the streets; ordering me to run to the most minuscule of your commands even after midnight,

 

Pummel me brutally in my stomach; banging your fists relentlessly into my chest; just a minute after I was released from the operation room,

 

Slash my writs with your heinous nails; ordering me to speak for you every time you opened your mouth,

 

Pour boiling tea directly on my tender lap; instead of letting it harmoniously cascade into the cup stringently clasped in my hands,

 

Sketch mortifying cartoons of my visage on the walls; displaying them proudly to every visitor who frequented our dwelling,

 

Keep inscrutably smiling at me when I was inundated with work; hiding my importantly indispensable files far away from sight,

 

Scream hysterically in my ears; fomenting them to rip apart in barbaric disarray; puncturing austerely through my sensitive membranes,

 

Corrupt the mind of my child against me with appalling tales; telling him that I was a cold blooded criminal; when infact I was an ordinary sage,

 

Try and strangulate my neck umpteenth number of times in a day; endeavoring your best to extricate the last iota of breath trapped in my lungs,

 

Whip me for indefatigable number of hours with your broomstick; commanding me to walk upside down with my hands clinging to my ears,

 

But please O! beloved, don’t ever leave me and go; for this painful ordeal that I underwent every day was far less than the living dead I would become; if

you suddenly left me .