Life = Death - Volume 7 - Poems on Life , Death by Nikhil Parekh - HTML preview

8. THE LAST DAY OF HIS LIFE 

He smiled as the milkman dropped milk; when usually he would swap his fingers menacingly at him; for arriving even a minute late,

He hoisted the dirty urchin high in his hands; when usually he would shoo all stray children running helter-skelter in the streets; with his stick,

He gave a handsome tip to the waiter; when usually he would scream at the top of his lungs for not being served properly,

He strolled bare chested in the sun-lit balcony; when usually he would adorn himself in the tightest of suit and glossy pant,

He danced rampantly in the rain outside; when usually he would stringently admonish all servants to shut the windows airtight; as soon as the first patch of black cloud  lingered in the sky,

He ate the most piquant of chili; when usually he refrained from tasting even small pinches of common salt,

He talked loquaciously all day in a host of languages; when usually his moved his lips sternly; only when required,

He sat for hours on the bed of squalid grass; when usually he never transgressed on anything except shimmering slabs of pure marble,

He sipped chilled champagne with gay abandon; when usually he didn’t touch anything except Herbal tea,

He laughed thunderously at the slightest of joke; when usually he was far too stingy even on smiles,

He drove his car himself at lightening speeds; when usually he incorrigibly refused to leave the house ever; without his driver,

He left his wrists bare; gauging the time from position of the Sun; when usually he even slept the entire night with his watch strapped tightly,

He viewed television incessantly at strident volumes; when usually he preferred to brood desolately in solitude,

He sang romantic tunes from contemporary songs; when usually he always condemned and rebuked the advent of pop music,

He masticated at raw slices of poignant cucumber; when usually he commanded the cooks to boil his food to unprecedented limits,

He shook hands magnanimously with the peons; when usually he held a handkerchief stuffed snugly to his nose; to superficially avoid their odor while confronting them,

He let his hair descend down in wild streaks; when usually he made sure every  morning that each follicle was combed and oiled; till its last root projecting from

his scalp,

He wore a loose and threadbare ragamuffin shirt; when usually he was embellished in silken fabric; with the most omnipotent of scent inundating every pore of his skin,

He even winked at witnessing lovers in the park; blessing them for their future lives to unfurl; when usually he put such trespassers behind iron bars of custody,

And today he forgave everyone he interacted with; lived life the way he did when he was just born; as he knew it that this was the last time he would ever see this marvelous earth; the last day of his life.