Indian Poet Nikhil Parekh

Was he an angel who’d descended right from the center of the sky; to bless each ingredient of her space with unparalleled happiness—grant her the unfailing tenacity to reach closer to the most impossible of her dreams?

Was he an invincibly pristine cloud—which incessantly showered the golden rain of prosperity upon her bereaved countenance; saw to it that she came out effulgently alive- everytime she entered her corpse entirely dead?

Was he the ultimate prince of her miserably asphyxiated destiny—who metamorphosed every maelstrom of flagrant luck that dared come her way; into a fountain of perennial happiness?

Was he every mischievously uninhibited wrinkle in her otherwise livid kin—which profoundly inspired every tangible and intangible entity that she encountered on the streets—and fomented them to majestically think?

Was he the answer to every flummoxing enigma of her dreaded existence—the most perfect sound of ‘yes’ which unequivocally dissipated from each of her entangled heartbeat?

Was he the pricelessly ultimate valentine of her life—taking her a fathomless kilometers away from every brutally estranged reality; innocuously dancing with her all the time in God’s invincible paradise?

Was he the unsurpassable confidence that empowered even the tiniest of her veins—as the battlefield of life grew more and more cannibalistic and she was subjected to the goriest devils of sadistic blood?

Was he every different word of unbridled innocence that her mouth uttered— solely epitomizing only the essence of truth in a world – otherwise deplorably swamped by a pack of manipulative wolves?

Was he the very best and untainted form of God’s creation in her palms—uninhibitedly swaying from one corner to the other—and granting the most meaningful impetus to her in her impoverished life?

Was he the most unprejudiced moisture of her disdainfully shrunken eyes—genuinely leading her to the corridors of eternally magical freedom; reflecting her undying compassion for ever fraternity of living kind?

Was he the innermost voice of her inconspicuously buried soul—which earnestly strived for uniting the farthest ends of this boundless planet; into the insuperably miraculous religion of mankind?

Was he the embers of unflinching passion innately smoldering in her bruised bones—fervently clapping everytime she advanced towards any path of goodness; after crumbling into morbid soil?

Was he the impregnable fortress that fearlessly towered around each trembling part of her – safeguarding even the most infinitesimal aspect of her existence to the hilt — whilst she snored to the tunes of her very own whimsical dreams?

Was he the most faithful friend; philosopher and guide that she harbored—who stuck more unassailably to her than her very own shadow—even as she eccentrically marched the walk of ghastly death?

Was he her ultimate definition of a perfect living being—unfathomably mischievous and adventurous—yet one of the most immaculately princely pearl of God’s earthly rhyme?

Was he every heartfelt tear that effusively cascaded down her eyes — as every different human chose to befriend the commercially sleazy devil from the atmosphere — rather than blend with the beats of immortal love divine?

Was he each of her ancestor and sibling at the most crucially critical of her times—lending his poignant ears to even the inconsolable of her cries—when the rest of the ‘blood related’ word round her had died?

Was he an inimitable magician that suddenly appeared out of nowhere in her beleaguered life—ensuring the most charismatically magnetic smile on her lips till the very end of her time?

Was he each of her heartbeat which never betrayed—considering itself the richest on this earth alive—as it loved and acquired love of one and all on this gigantic planet alike?

Was he her most infallibly perfect impression on mundane soil—as she chose to tread the path never ever taken before—upon which failure was the most certainly biggest writing on the walls?

Ah well, for others he might as well been merely a dog named ‘ Tobby ‘ who had taken birth in the same form, at the same instant that he was dead – but for my sister he was; is and shall remain as her darling ‘ Everybody ‘ till she breathed her very last and till beyond a destined more of her nicely varied lifetimes.

In order to win the clouds; you had to become a fathomless foliage of stupendously enchanting green,

In order to win the mouse; you had to become succulent chunks of tantalizing cheese,

In order to win the deserts; you had to become boundless oceans of fabulously sparkling water,

In order to win the giant; you had to become appetizing morsels of heavenly food; compounded with celestially rejuvenating sleep,

In order to win the dog; you had to become the meaty persona of ravishing bone,

In order to win the soaring bird; you had to become the amicably cozy nest; harboring its festoon of scintillating eggs; as well as providing it a dwelling
to spend the insurmountably hideous night,

In order to win the dreary eye; you had to become an island of mesmerizing beauty; assume the demeanor of all those it wholesomely revered and cherished,

In order to win the sacrosanct hooded serpent; you had to become a bowl of impeccably shimmering milk,

In order to win the tree; you had to become exuberant draughts of profusely reinvigorating breeze,

In order to win the lips; you had to become a poignantly emphatic and tumultuously alluring smile,

In order to win the night; you had to become an enigmatically lingering whisper; which propelled beads of untamed excitement to creep up on the skin,

In order to win the coffin; you had to become a perpetually still dead body, relinquishing even the most minuscule trace of life,

In order to win the spider; you had to become a grandiloquent web; woven with threads of exquisitely voluptuous silk,

In order to win the lotus; you had to become the boisterously buzzing bee; seducing it to the most unprecedented limits; hovering incessantly round its famished grace,

In order to win the devil; you had to become its ingratiatingly immaculate prey,

In order to win the dictator; you had to become his unfathomably obedient and timidly humble slave,

In order to win the mind; you had to become its relentlessly augmenting fantasy; proliferating beyond the boundaries of pragmatic control,

In order to win the lungs; you had to become handsome bucketfuls of exhilarating air; imparting them the irrefutably formidable tenacity to survive,

In order to win the heart; you had to become its beats; passionately palpitating each unfurling minute of divinely bestowed life,

But in order to win the love of your life; you simply didn’t need to do anything at all; for if the Almighty Creator had granted it in your destiny; then it would
incarcerate you in its immortal swirl for times immemorial; even if you miserably failed to hear beyond your own voice; even if you were completely blind in the
most Omnipotent of light.

When I tried to reach her climbing perseveringly on the ladder; poking my head out embarrassingly; after reaching the 9th floor,
She gave me an obnoxious stare; thrusted the broomstick on my face; sending me hurtling down on the ground; petrified to the last bone of my spine.

When I tried to reach her in my private helicopter; hovering it at inches from her bedroom window,
She scornfully hurled disdainful pints off vanity powder at me; thoroughly blinding me; the aftermath of which caused me to crash land in the wilderness.

When I tried to reach her masquerading my voice like a female; attempting to fool her on the telephone,
She instantaneously deciphered my tone; barked a volley of malicious expletives at me; before ruthlessly banging down the receiver.

When I tried to reach her in my swanky car; pretentiously blowing its bombastic horn outside her door,
She mercilessly emptied the garbage can on my bonnet; left me in open mouthed consternation; with flies and cockroaches from the sewage crawling all over my body.

When I tried to reach her; sending her flowery letters; embossed with romantic lines which I had copied from the Shakespeare,
She had a hearty laugh after browsing through the same; snapped it into infinite fragments; throwing it into the remotest corner of her dustbin.

When I tried to reach her via the internet; sending her a greeting card; studded with outlines of shimmering silver,
She transferred the same into the trash can simply viewing my name; let alone reading the first alphabet of the electronic message.

When I tried to reach her on a horse; gallivanting effeminately in the vicinity of her residence,
She whispered to her friends to shoo me away; which they executed with supreme efficiency; pelting me with their shoes; and whatever rotten piece of junk that came across their hands.

When I tried to reach her through a diamond set; transferring the same into her jurisdiction alongwith a scintillating necklace of white pearls,
She envisaged me to be a rich mans son; distributed the beads amongst the beggars howling on the streets; after scrupulously entangling them from the strings.

When I tried to reach her through television; stylishly proclaiming her name; as well as announcing a reward to anyone who would bring her alive to me,
She was appalled at my maniacal tendencies; set the police hot on my trail; for pertinently blackmailing her.

While it was only when I reached her empty handed; barged through the door of her house in front of the unconventional society, audaciously blurted out ‘I love you; looking deeply into her eyes,
That I was able to ‘WIN HER HEART’ as she now perceived that I really loved her; wanted to imprison her forever in the vice like grip of my romance.

To win her back was as impossible; as thunder clouds in the cosmos not showering unrelenting rain,

To win her back was as impossible; as squeezing back tangy toothpaste back into the tube,

To win her back was as impossible; as scrupulously straightening a dog’s incorrigibly curved tail,

To win her back was as impossible; as plummeting face down from the 100th floor; and yet desiring to stay alive,

To win her back was as impossible; as typing alphabets on the swanky computer screen without the intricately chiseled keyboard,

To win her back was as impossible; as escaping the sting of the mosquito incessantly buzzing its cacophony in the ear,

To win her back was as impossible; as trying to tenaciously sneeze without making the tiniest of noise,

To win her back was as impossible; as attempting to walk without using twin pair of feet,

To win her back was as impossible; as trying to cultivate a tree without indispensable water,

To win her back was as impossible; as trying to speed the car at erratic speeds without whisky complexioned gasoline,

To win her back was as impossible; as hunting the untamed panther without a gleaming barrel gun,

To win her back was as impossible; as making tea without actually adding pungent tea leaves,

To win her back was as impossible; as trying not to scream when consuming heaps of green farm chili,

To win her back was as impossible; as constructing the colossal edifice without a concrete foundation,

To win her back was as impossible; as standing naked amidst the frozen snow without shivering,

To win her back was as impossible; as soaring high in the sky without a pair of dexterously handsome wings,

To win her back was as impossible; as retaining consciousness even after being pierced by fangs of the venomous snake,

To win her back was as impossible; as convincing the agnostic to believe in omniscient god,

To win her back was as impossible; as holding ones ground firmly in an island of quick sand,

To win her back was as impossible; as expecting a spider to stay suspended in the air without its silken web,

To win her back was as impossible; as existing in sweltering heat of the desert without a solitary globule of water,

To win her back was as impossible; as having the sun shine inexorably all the time without any mention of night,

To win her back was as impossible; as impregnating life back into the veins of a dead man,

To win her back was as impossible; as trying to survive without inhaling gallons of fresh air,

O! Yes to win her back today was irrevocably impossible; after the dreadful fight we had in the day,

The only way I could still win her back; was wait for the gruesome night to unveil itself into another day,

Fervently hope that the new rising of dawn; made her exhaustively oblivious to the obnoxious events of the previous day.

Just moving your lips up and down doesn’t make any sense; the real art lies in speaking articulately; profoundly impressing upon your point on your hostile
adversary,

Just shaking your fingers aimlessly in the air doesn’t make any sense; the real art lies in embossing spell binding pieces of literature; captivating the entire nation with the unprecedented depth in your words,

Just swishing your legs waywardly in the pools of water doesn’t make any sense; the real art lies in audaciously marching towards the summit of victory; conquering invincible peaks with the colossal strength they posses,

Just admiring your reflection spuriously in the transparent mirror doesn’t make any sense at all; the real art lies in pleasing as many individuals as you can; mesmerize people around you with your stupendous beauty and seductive charisma,

Just writing books after books sitting in the cloistered interiors of your dwelling doesn’t make any sense at all; the real art lies in propagating your work to as far and distant as you can; sharing the essence of your enchanting fantasy with people
who badly needed it,

Just perspiring and appreciating your own golden globules of sweat as they trickled down doesn’t make any sense at all; the real art lies in slogging onerously under the mid-day Sun; to enlighten the faces of infinite children who were starving on the
streets without their parents,

Just sketching boundless shapes of abstract imagination on sprawling sheets of scintillating canvas doesn’t make any sense at all; the real art lies in capturing the ultimate beauty lingering the cosmos; the lifestyles of our century old ancestors;
with the pungent bristles of the gaudy paint brush,

Just playing incessantly imprisoned within the corridors of the ghastly jail doesn’t make any sense at all; the real art lies in stepping out in brilliant daylight; letting the poignant sunshine filter a mystical path across your dainty eyes; frolicking in
glee with the rabbits on the hillside,

Just winking your eye to stimulate your own nerves on 1 ,2 ; 3 , 4 , 5 ; 6 , 7 ; 8 , 9 ; 10 , 11 different moments in a day doesn’t make any sense at all; the real art lies in fomenting kids afflicted with inexplicable disease to have a hearty laugh at your batting eyelid,

Just growing a garden of roses in your dingy little kitchen; obfuscated in entirety from the Sun and the world; doesn’t make any sense at all; the real art lies in planting them at every cranny you tread; to spread their supremely mesmerizing fragrance in every
house on this planet,

Just punching the sandbag suspended tamely from the ceiling doesn’t make any sense at all; the real art lies in battling the evil circumventing this earth; sucking blood from innocent individuals like an venomous parasite,

Just fantasizing wildly about beauty all day doesn’t make any sense at all; the real art lies in exploring all tantalizing form created by God on this globe; further assisting his cause in continuing the chapter of existence,

Just sleeping for unsurpassable hours on the princely couch doesn’t make any sense at all; the real art lies in sharing it with those who hadn’t a roof to sequester their scalps; ensuring that they eventually got a bit of restful slumber,

Just remembering your childhood brooding over your present in utter regret doesn’t make any sense at all; the real art lies in walking on the sea shores again like a child; let the mighty waves of the ocean caress you; make you feel as if you were just born,

Just letting blood rampantly flow in your veins; swelling in gallons every day as you gobbled food like a glutton; doesn’t make any sense at all; the real art lies in engendering it to flow for the person you revered; disseminating it philanthropically to all those who were wounded; who died every second in absence of it,

Just screaming at the top of your lungs standing tall and domineering at the tip of the perilously deep mountain doesn’t make any sense at all; the real art lies in shouting for deprived women; blatantly reveal the atrocities being committed on them; the way the weaker sex was brutally assaulted,

Just swimming under the stars; splashing water lavishly around before ultimately sipping it doesn’t make any sense at all; the real art lies in sprinkling each droplet you possessed upon the land and people struck by savage drought,

Just throbbing your heart violently in perception of the person you cared doesn’t make any sense at all; the real art lies in embracing the same in times of supreme exultation as well as morbid distress,

And just breathing every hour for times immemorial doesn’t make any sense; the real art lies in deriving the maximum pleasure out of this life; living every instant for the person you loved; dedicating your life to the service of mankind.

My smile could perhaps have stirred you a trifle; drifting you an inconspicuous bit from your woefully tyrannical monotony,
But to her blissfully tinkling laughter; ebulliently danced the entire planet; with unsurpassable fervor; and timelessly outside.

My eyes could perhaps have punctuated you a trifle; casting an impression of transiently augmenting empathy; upon your luridly morass countenance,
But to her innocuously flirtatious winks; wonderfully cavorted the entire planet; with indefatigable mysticism; and tantalizingly outside.

My whispers could perhaps have enthralled you a trifle; ephemerally diverting your preposterously malicious mind towards an ocean of untamed enigma,
But to her mellifluously immaculate tunes; magically swayed the entire planet; with unrelenting euphoria; and vivaciously outside.

My muscles could perhaps have impressed you a trifle; capturing the crux of your imagination with the wand of miraculous machismo,
But to her divinely uninhibited selflessness; bountifully stooped the entire planet; with unparalleled obeisance; and celestially outside.

My eyebrows could perhaps have perpetuated you a trifle; engendering you to momentarily envisage the rhapsodically unknown; with their mischievously
resplendent twitching,
But to her fathomlessly poignant expressions; ingratiatingly resonated the entire planet; with perennial brotherhood; and ecstatically outside.

My shadow could perhaps have stupefied you a trifle; serenely placating your barbarously lambasted nerves; with the tonic of fugitive camaraderie,
But to her Omnipotently sacrosanct aura; symbiotically marched the entire planet; with the spirit of humanitarian bonding; and vibrantly outside.

My palms could perhaps have supported you a trifle; amiably sequestering your trembling flesh from the traitors; for just an infidel instant,
But to her invincibly everlasting uninhibitedness; perpetually sang the entire planet; with synergistically unblemished caring; and gloriously outside.

My fantasies could perhaps have enlightened you a trifle; fantastically enriching the fabric of your ignominiously dithering existence; for a few hours every day,
But to her unassailably enamoring genius; relentlessly proliferated the entire planet; with exuberantly charismatic newness; and Omnipresently outside.

My breath could perhaps have titillated you a trifle; miraculously reinvigorating your lividly deteriorating senses with the elixir of survival; for just an evanescent moment,
But to her insuperable cries of sparkling righteousness; effulgently radiated the entire planet; with undaunted resilience; and resplendently outside.

And my heart could perhaps have loved you a trifle; magnificently alleviating you of your inexplicably cancerous pain; for just an ethereal second every night,
But to the inimitably Godly beats of her newly born freshness; triumphantly throbbed the entire planet; with indomitably insatiable compassion; and immortally
Outside.

To write good things was of paramount importance; what you wrote the literature with; what hand you used; was utterly inconsequential,

To admire magnificent beauty was of paramount importance; which eye you admired it with; the aperture you kept while profoundly appreciating it; was utterly inconsequential,

To smell the ravishing rose was of paramount importance; how you sniffed it; which nostril did you use; was utterly inconsequential,

To swim in the voluptuous ocean was of paramount importance; which hand and foot you used to splash about in the poignantly tangy waves; was utterly inconsequential,

To eat appetizing morsels of food was of paramount importance; what side of the mouth did you use to finely pulverize the tantalizing chunks; was utterly inconsequential,

To trample the venomously heinous scorpion was of paramount importance; whether you used your right foot or left foot to indiscriminately squelch the irate monster; was utterly inconsequential,

To sleep blissfully in the star studded night was of paramount importance; whether you slept directly beneath the opalescent moon or whether you slept in your enviously cozy dwelling; was utterly inconsequential,

To reach the pinnacle of the impregnable mountain was of paramount importance; whether you clambered up with boots or conquered it barefoot; was utterly
inconsequential,

To make the mercilessly orphaned child laugh was of paramount importance; whether you made him smile by indigenously poking out your tongue or whether you
achieved the same by singing ingratiating rhymes; was utterly inconsequential,

To expurgate the disdainfully inflated bowels in the morning was of paramount importance; whether you did that hiding behind the conglomerate of foliated trees
or whether you evacuated the dirt sitting on the plush lavatory seat; was utterly inconsequential,

To remember the person you adored was of paramount importance; whether you did that writing eloquently long letters or whether you managed to accomplish the
same by chanting her name incessantly in your mind; was utterly inconsequential,
To wash your body scrupulously everyday was of paramount importance; whether you did that standing under the contemporary Jacuzzi of the five star hotel;
or whether you scrubbed your skin under the rustic waterfall cascading down the mountain; was utterly inconsequential,

To construct a fortified place to live was of paramount importance; whether you erected the dwelling dressed in immaculate shirt and stringently pressed tie; or whether you slapped granules of raw cement on the wall bare chested; was utterly inconsequential,

To assassinate the hideous man eater shark was of paramount importance; whether you did that by adulterating its mammoth slices of meat; or whether you permeated its satanically thick skin with a battalion of grey bullets; was utterly inconsequential,

To emulate philanthropic ideals of your ancestors was of paramount importance; whether you imbibed them by reading through exorbitantly costly textbooks; or
whether you got apprised of the same through experiences in real life; was utterly inconsequential,

To respect your mother was of paramount importance; whether you incessantly knelt down on her feet; or whether you hardly saw her when you were overseas and
cherished her in your every prayer; was utterly inconsequential,

To convey the most sagaciously prudent message to the world was of paramount importance; whether you divulged the same screaming hysterically at the top of your voice; or whether you were able to disseminate the same in mollified whispers; was utterly inconsequential,

To drink salubrious water boundless times in a day was of paramount importance; whether you sipped it delectably from the amicable champagne glass; or whether you gulped it ferociously from the lap of the turbulently gushing country river; was utterly
inconsequential,

And to pray to God was of paramount importance; whether you folded hands and seeked solace; or whether you clasped your palms openly towards the heavens for
forgiveness; or whether you maneuvered them dexterously across your chest in the form of a sacrosanct cross; was utterly inconsequential.

The lady that personified unassailable grace, treading on the most impeccable marble
of her choice,

The wife who was irrefutably loyal to her husband, in the motley situations that the
exhilarating chapter of life had to offer,

The dutiful patron who embellished various spaces of her aristocratic farmhouse, with the choicest artifacts, figurines, statuettes and shrubs that she found with ease,

The daughter who skipped meals sporadically; earnestly concerned about her mother’s health; which was one of her most predominant priority as of now,

The uninhibited shopper who took rhapsodic delight in replenishing the shelves of her household – with the most robustly royal fruits to devour,

The grandmother who absolutely and profoundly doted on her grandchild, fulfilling the tiniest of her demands with toys befitting a grandiose princess,

The astounding philanthropist who would often lend all her meals to brutally famished street dogs and cats – and then cuddle them as if they were an inevitable constituent of her family,

The fantasizer who granted invincibly concrete shapes to her beautiful myriad of
thoughts; as she persevered in her natural capacity to salvage her very own inimitable
identity on the trajectory of this planet,

The friend who patiently listened to the unprecedented agonies of her mates –
empowered their lives with her intriguing jokes; wit; laughter and congenial charisma,

The aunt who was ready impromptu to shoulder responsibility of the most distant of her relatives; without the slightest trace of prejudice and malice – and as life demanded her to benevolently react,

The mother-in-law who had her share of irate squabbles with her daughter-in-law which was perfectly natural; but yet at the same time made her welcome at home as she’d come far away leaving her own abode,

And most importantly ‘my mother’ for whom I was the unconquered best in the world – no matter what anyone said- and her belief in my poetry being the quintessential backbone of my impoverished mortal existence,

Here’s wishing you a very Happy Birthday on this joyously enthralling day of the 24th
March,2010.

To make my eyes special; I feasted them on the unfathomable repertoire of God’s astounding beauty; recounting the same to my blind mates submerged in a
blanket of derogatory despair,

To make my hands special; I hoisted innocuous orphans high up in the air; escalating them towards their elestial dreams,

To make my feet special; I marched and ran indefatigable kilometers on the trot; intrepidly fighting for my tyrannized motherland,

To make my lips special; I uninhibitedly unleashed them into a benign smile; imparting perpetual rays of hope to my impoverished mates in inexplicable pain,

To make my destiny special; I wholeheartedly led each instant of my life; relishing every ray of the Golden Sun on my nimble skin; as each minute unveiled,

To make my tongue special; I sang the harmoniously philanthropic hymns of humanity; endeavoring my best to unite all alike; with the irrefutable voice of
mankind,

To make my teeth special; I profoundly savored the fruits of mother nature; propagating the essence of blissful non-violence in every quarter of the
manipulatively violent planet,

To make my reflection special; I used it to cast spells of rejuvenating exhilaration; upon my dreary compatriots; sinking horrendously towards obdurate soil,

To make my bones special; I indefatigably persevered all night and day to achieve the ultimate mission of my life; uplift treacherously withering humanity; to
an exotic paradise,

To make my hair special; I allowed them to drift freely with the gushing breeze; not restraining them to flow into any religion or creed,

To make my mind special; I fantasized intransigently in the aisles of fabulous desire; formidably augmenting my vision to serve planet earth; as the days unfurled,

To make my blood special; I drained it out entirely from my veins; enlightening the lives of those relinquishing breath rapidly; to blend with diabolical doomsday,

To make my shoulders special; I alighted the revered deities of my divinely parents till times immemorial; transporting them to the most; inconspicuously remote
places that they had always wanted,

To make my existence special; I unflinchingly kept performing my flurry of tasks; impregnably entwining my hands with my fellow beings in traumatic distress
and agonizing pain,

To make my ears special; I absorbed the unsurpassable melody in the exuberant breeze; taught the demons to relish the benign tunes of Almighty God,

To make my breath special; I planted an insurmountable battalion of trees; bonding each puff of air I exhaled; perennially with impeccable living beings,

To make my conscience special; I adopted the path of everlasting righteousness; irrevocably avoiding the temptations of salaciously lecherous desire,

To make my soul special; I left every element of its goodness to wander far and wide across this globe; illuminating unfound beams of optimism; in all lives shattered and satanically buried under mountains of utter helplessness,

And to make my heart special; I immortally loved the person of my dreams for infinite more births to come; letting the Omnipotent beats of our love; embrace and
exist together with over other tangible being.

In order to annoy her all I had to do; was spill some milk on the glistening floor; wipe my nose on her immaculate apron,
And then to make her happy was even simpler; as I prepared appetizing lunch for the afternoon; scrupulously with my own hands.

In order to annoy her all I had to do; was rebuke her sardonically for a plethora of her household chores,
And then to make her happy was even simpler; as I embellished her hair with crimson colored rose; gently caressed her soft cheek.

In order to annoy her all I had to do; was say that she wasn’t looking extravagant in her new dress,
And then to make her happy was even simpler; as I swirled her in my arms; hoisting her high in the sky towards the resplendent stars.

In order to annoy her all I had to do; was look pretty nonchalant when she arrived home back from shopping,
And then to make her happy was even simpler; as I sprung at her with surprise gifting her with a shining pearl; which I had evacuated myself from within the fathomless ocean.

In order to annoy her all I had to do; was asking her whether “titanic” was indeed a ship; after she had narrated the entire story,
And then to make her happy was even simpler; as I honestly told her that she was the only girl I had loved in my life; she was my “rose” of my heart.

In order to annoy her all I had to do; was to call her indescribable names,
And then to make her happy was even simpler; as I assisted her in washing the tainted utensils; vigorously scrubbing the fetid clothes lying in a bedraggled heap.

In order to annoy her all I had to do; was to babble incoherently every time she felt sleepy at night,
And then to make her happy was even simpler; as I massaged her dreary feet; sung mystical rhymes to put her back into a heavenly slumber.

In order to annoy her all I had to do; was refrain to budge an inch from my bed; with brilliant sunshine circumventing our room,
And then to make her happy was even simpler; as I carried her on my back down the volley of stairs; avoiding to travel by the ostentatious elevator.

In order to annoy her all I had to; was forget our anniversary; the day we actually bound in threads of holy matrimony,
And then to make her happy was even simpler; as I astounded her by filling the crevice between her hair with my own blood.

In order to annoy her all I had to do; was talk about a plethora of girls I had encountered on the street,
And then to make her happy was even simpler; as I proclaimed loudly to the outside world without the slightest of inhibition; that she was the most beautiful woman existing on this earth; the only girl that I had for many births of mine; imprisoned in my heart.