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Nikhil Parekh - Love Poet

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Love Poem - because she had made my food with love .
by Nikhil Parekh - Love Poet

Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Rated "G" by the Author.
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Poetry written for true romance by Indian Poet Nikhil Parekh .

 

It definitely wasn't because of the tantalizingly appetizing aroma that graciously wafted through mundane wisps of nothingness - fomenting a new found hunger to greedily gobble till the very last non - existent bit ,

It irrefutably wasn't because of the ravishingly royal appearance that engulfed it with a princely charm to swoon for - the succulent layers of nutrition that made the tongue salivate longingly in anticipation of the tiniest of contact ,

It intransigently wasn't because of the fact that the day had been overwhelmingly exhausted and famished - prompting an ecstatic push for the dining table as soon as the footsteps reached the threshold of gregariously sweet home ,

It dogmatically wasn't because of the sumptuous fillings of delicately dribbling curry that painstakingly cascaded from the main course - suddenly empowering the desire to symbiotically exist with counterpart man on earth ,

It irretrievably wasn't because of the multitude of culinary embellishments that adorned its periphery - making it resemble a platter served in the choicest of castles and to the most magnificently invincible of Kings and Queens on planet earth ,

It certainly wasn't because it triggered an optimistically artistic desire of sketching unparalleled beauty around you - with its lavishly grand helpings sensitively strewn and blended raw with rustic fruit ,

It intractably wasn't because of its astoundingly rich nutritious value highly recommended by the best in their respective fields - that could wonderfully replenish and gorgeously harness the deteriorating bones of aged existence ,

It truly wasn't because its enamoring recipe had won virtually every conceivable International award and felicitation - before pompously filling in the barren recesses of the famished plates laid rather nonchalantly on the dinner table ,

It irrevocably wasn't because of hype and mystery enshrouding it that had culminated perseveringly as the day had unveiled - with inconspicuous tid - bits and chatter from family members of what was in store for supper adding exorbitantly to the already charged up atmosphere , 

It earnestly wasn't because it had thrown monotonous strictness out of the window - as the most sonorously disciplined of adults - ravenously indulged into tearing it apart into minuscule pieces of digestion - before eventually swallowing it with unabashed glee ,

It simply wasn't because it profoundly inspired you to become a poet - interweave and embody verse of the highest perceivable imagination in praise of its compassionate aura ;dainty structure ; texture and transiently adorable charm ,

It sagaciously wasn't because of the impromptu occasion that transpired because of it being gloriously laid - as members of the family rejoiced and reveled in each other's company sitting across the table - as the night unfurled in its majestically voluptuous color ,

It obstinately wasn't because of the uninhibited feast that it provided to fantasizing entities around - as they experienced sheer tranquility after having consumed it - pacifying the most ethereal of their apprehensions with the enrichment of taste ,

It solidly wasn't because of the spectacular vitality that it permeated the lividly exasperated body with - the same physical form which had decayed into a disheveled heap a little while ago - out of sheer agony and hunger triggered by the parasitic meanness of the mortal world ,

It undoubtedly wasn't because of the goodwill and extraordinary hospitality that it successfully generated - even as the uncalled for neighborhood urchins were fantastically drawn towards it and ate it ; as if there wasn't going to be a meal in near future ,

It incorrigibly wasn't because of the flattery and the untainted adoration that diligently admired my hard work - to be able to earn such a succulent princely spread of eatery at the fag end of the assiduously hard earned day ,

It promisingly wasn't because of that contented handshake that came from the other side as soon as the meal got over - rendering me in indescribable rhapsody as all measly past differences with my friend were now resolved - and this is exactly what a thoroughly reinvigorating meal had the power to do ,

It really wasn't because it was a part of that sporadic celebration that happened in moment of joyous triumph - bringing distant family and outsiders irrespective of caste , creed , color and tribe - to relish the marvelously salubrious chunks of home cooked delicacy ,


But I merrily had it , relished it , romanticized about it , savored it to absolute glory - because she had made my food with love .


(c) (r) copyright by nikhil parekh . all rights reserved .

 

 

 

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