Life = Death - Volume 3 - Poems on Life , Death by Nikhil Parekh - HTML preview

49. THE COLOR OF MY CHEEKS 

The color of my cheeks was whiter than the innocuous Moon; when I just got up from sleep with the first rays of ethereal dawn,

The color of my cheeks was more crimson than the poignant rose; when the girl of my surreal dreams; flirtatiously glimpsed at my countenance,

The color of my cheeks was a morbid yellow; when I was enveloped by the ominous swirl of ghastly fever,

The color of my cheeks was a tangy blue; as I reached the shores after swimming voraciously for marathon hours in the vivaciously salty ocean,

The color of my cheeks was a mischievous chocolate brown; after I rhapsodically trespassed through a slippery slurry of mud; and the rain thunderously pelting down,

The color of my cheeks was a brilliantly shimmering yellow; after I stood for gigantic hours under the sweltering midday Sun,

The color of my cheeks was an incorrigible pink; as I entered my dwelling after spending countless hours sandwiched between colossal slabs of raw ice,

The color of my cheeks was a sparkling golden; after I scrubbed them voraciously with stringently pungent cakes of fat antiseptic,

The color of my cheeks was blacker than the deplorable coal mines; when I starved myself for weeks on the trot; sat in an obsolete corner sequestered wholesomely

from the outside world,

The color of my cheeks was an overwhelmingly ashen grey; as I heard the news of the ship sinking; the treacherous tale of my compatriots losing their lives under cold water,

The color of my cheeks was greener than the curled grass; when I sat under the placid shade of the tree; with its astronomically foliate branches flooding my senses with rejuvenated fervor,

The color of my cheeks was more transparent than the scintillating mirror; when I was in a mood to convey the most surreptitious of thoughts candidly,

The color of my cheeks was a fiery red; when I marched forward in volatile anger; vindictively resolving to teach my erring adversary the lesson of his life,

The color of my cheeks was more blended than a rainbow; when a battalion of girls kissed them; all embellished with myriad textures of swanky lipstick,

The color of my cheeks was a trifle hazy; as I freshly passed out through the conglomerate of puffy clouds,

The color of my cheeks was a pathetic violet; as I consumed frugal amounts of venom; to gently experience the process of extinction,

The color of my cheeks was pragmatically normal; when I intensely concentrated on my work; paid heed to nothing else but the process called practical and routine life,

The color of my cheeks was celestially heavenly; when I had just taken birth; exhaled my first breath on this mesmerizing planet,

And the color of my cheeks disappeared in entirety; floating like an inconspicuous thread into remote oblivion; as I breathed my last; as I was buried fathomless feet in my grave after being declared dead.