The Power of Black – Poems on Humanity , Social Cause , Poverty , Women Empowerment – Volume 1 by Nikhil Parekh - HTML preview

40. HUMAN – PART 2

I just couldn’t make out his name; simply by looking into his innocently hazel eyes,

I just couldn’t make out his religion; simply by gauging the pace of his walk; the lanes on which he traveled,

I just couldn’t make out the place he might be residing; simply by staring at the

color of his clothes,

I just couldn’t make out the money he had incarcerated in his pocket; simply by casting a look at the back of his trouser,

I just couldn’t make out the words he might be extremely fond of; simply by the shade of his lips,

I just couldn’t make out his passions in life; the things he had an insatiable zeal for; simply by admiring his supreme height,

I just couldn’t make out the color of blood flowing in his veins; simply by glancing a trifle at his rubicund skin,

I just couldn’t make out the dreams engulfing his mind; simply by witnessing his mystical shadow,

I just couldn’t make out whether he was married or not; by simply listening to his authoritative voice,

I just couldn’t make out the exact size of his shoe; simply by running my fingers nimbly across his fading footprints,

I just couldn’t make out the destination he was going to; simply by viewing the bag he held stubbornly in his fortified palms,

I just couldn’t make out the speed of his heart; the turbulence that might going on inside; by simply casting one look beneath his shirt inundated with profuse sweat,

I just couldn’t make out the abuses he had spoken a little while ago; simply by straining my ears to his present voice,

I just couldn’t make out the fraternity of clothes he vehemently adored; by simply peering at his existing pair of bedraggled coat and trousers,

I just couldn’t make out the insects that had stung him all throughout his life; simply by spotting the fresh bruises sprawled incoherently on his arms,

I just couldn’t make out the actual strength and tenacity he possessed in his demeanor; simply by standing abreast by his side for a few racy seconds,

I just couldn’t make out the taste circumventing his greedy tongue; simply by peeking a glimpse at the morsels of left over bread neatly sandwiched in his fists,

I just couldn’t make out his ability to memorize; the pedigree of intelligence that lingered in his brain; simply by gawking at his bushy eyebrows and moderately

square forehead,

And the more I saw him; the more frustrated I became; as I just couldn’t make out head or tail about his entity; the inscrutable quandaries enveloping his life,

So at the end when there seemed no alternative; and the inexorably urge to talk to him became more prominent than the thunderously deafening clouds; I chose the simplest option; I audaciously mustered strength to call him; addressed him boldly

as human