Sharp Scissors (poem) by Nikhil Parekh - Indian Poet on AuthorsDen

Sharp Scissors
by Nikhil Parekh - Indian Poet → (All Poetry by Nikhil Parekh - Indian Poet)
Saturday, March 19, 2016 Rated "G" by the Author.

Save

Follow Share on Facebook


I used to cut thick strands of the abysmally long rope; bifurcating it into commensurate halves, Then use the same in hoisting out bulky loads from the sequestered well; fetch water from the river standing on top of the lanky mountain. I used it to adroitly scrape blotches of disdainful mud adhering to my shoe; evacuate the debris from inside the soles, So when I wore my disheveled footwear the next time out; it appeared profoundly scintillating under the fiery body of Sun. I used it to scrupulously tear pieces of gaudy cloth into thin strips; vibrantly displaying a host of vivid colors, Then stuck them into my straw brimmed hat; wore a strap of snake leather; to resemble the perfect cowboy. I used to ruthlessly rip apart through pudgy chunks of plush upholstery; brutally extricating the sponge out, In my frantic search for finding the missing jewels; apprehending the scores of nefarious criminals. I used it to poke my beloved in the soft cartilage of her ribs; hovering it in the vicinity of her ear like a petulant mosquito, Only to hear her anguished rebuking; the deliberately cold meals she served me for nocturnal supper. I used it to tenaciously dig the fresh mounds of mud; making a plethora of inconspicuous holes in proximity of the plants, Facilitating their accelerated growth; providing them with augmented space to breathe. I used it to spread the golden smear of butter on my morning bread; coherently applying jam to my succulent fruit, Thereafter Relishing my meal immensely; with sporadic beams of light falling in shimmering pools on my dreary eyes. I used it to frivolously prick inflated balloons; inserting it with meticulous precision in their protuberant body, Tremendously enjoyed the thunderous bang; the monstrous reverberations that besieged the atmosphere as an inevitable aftermath. I even used it sometimes as a substitute to my pen; dipping it extravagantly in a bottle replete with blue blooded ink, However it floundered to achieve the required proficiency; and it was an apathy to view the mangled lines of literature that I had scribbled on the finely agglutinated paper. But one thing was for sure; and I know all of you would ubiquitously agree with the same, My pair of sharp scissors served me the best when I used it to trim the unruly hair inhabiting my scalp; the deplorable strands of moustache waywardly drooping down my chin, Astoundingly transforming my demeanor from that of a bushy demon; to that of an impeccable God.