Poetry

1. THE VOICE OF MY DIVINELY BABY DAUGHTER
There was just one voice which could bring me triumphantly bouncing back; even
from the dungeons of the most inexplicable desperation—where an infinite scorpions
of viciously stabbed till many an eternity,
There was just one voice which could bring me blissfully bouncing back; even from
the throes of the most chaotic riots and violent bloodshed-where a boundless
innocent like me were baselessly trapped irrespective of religion; cast; color or race,
There was just one voice which could bring me spell-bindingly bouncing back; even
from the mortuaries of acrimonious betrayal—where the most benign harbingers of
peace were insidiously charred to raw and wanton ash,
There was just one voice which could bring me boisterously bouncing back; even
from the most diabolical dungeons of solitariness—where perpetual silence
dolorously incarcerated every ounce of activity,
There was just one voice which could bring me sensuously bouncing back; even from
the most dreaded fields of subterfuge and slavery—where disdainful manipulation
kept inexhaustibly sucking like an unconquerable leech,
There was just one voice which could bring me ecstatically bouncing back; even from
the most truculently thwarted anecdotes of maniacal depression—were every step
forward led only to the graveyards of bleary nothingness,
There was just one voice which could bring me euphorically bouncing back; even
from the most cursedly moonless nights—where there vindictively paraded nothing
else but an unceasing fleet of Witches and bemoaning ghosts,
There was just one voice which could bring me jubilantly bouncing back; even from
the most perilously closing crocodile jaws—where there lingered nothing else but the
coffin robe of wholesome death ,
There was just one voice which could bring me unflinchingly bouncing back; even
from the most unbearably sadistic gutters of cowardice-where Sunlight was endlessly
ostracized and livid blackness fervently worshipped,
There was just one voice which could bring me undauntedly bouncing back; even
from the most miserably asphyxiating of nightmares—where proliferation or newness
immutably abhorred to survive,

2. There was just one voice which could bring me mellifluously bouncing back; even
from the most irrevocably sinking ship-where ghastly choking to death was the only
writing on every innocuous palm,
There was just one voice which could bring me vivaciously bouncing back; even from
the most brutally gleaming edges of the devilish knife—where wholesome extinction
precariously tottered in-between a single stroke of the sardonically grinning blade,
There was just one voice which could bring me stupendously bouncing back; even
from the most torturously lambasting hell's of the devil—where all that reigned
supreme was an unending battalion of abuse and parasitic unrest,
There was just one voice which could bring me bountifully bouncing back; even from
the most deplorably stagnant realms of the unsparing past—where there hovered the
germs of such negativity- that crucified every instant of the optimistic present and
tomorrow,
There was just one voice which could bring me poignantly bouncing back; even from
the most irretrievably demonic thorns of poverty-where there existed nothing else but
an unfathomably deteriorating atmosphere of devastating haplessness,
There was just one voice which could bring me merrily bouncing back; even from the
most sinfully adulterated streets of prejudice—where every organism gallivanting was
under a spell of blood-sucking doom,
There was just one voice which could bring me jauntily bouncing back; even from the
most despondently excoriating gallows of failure—where the minutest ray of hope
had abominably died already a billion years ago,
There was just one voice which could bring me exuberantly bouncing back; even
from the most satanic crevices of wretched terrorism-where only the harmoniously
impeccable organism had to pay the price of its life,
O! Yes; that voice was of none other but that of my divinely baby daughter
"Kavya"; calling me "Daddy" more and more passionately with every unveiling
instant-- till the time there existed the last draught of air in my lungs—and even an
infinite centuries after I'd veritably died.