Treasure Island

Nikhil Parekh

(27/08/1977 / Dehradun, India)

boredom


I viewed television for long hours on the trot,
Flickering images of the screen flooding inert regions
of my eye,
I suddenly felt my head throbbing like a thousand
needles,
And I shut my eyes with ardent fervor; to avoid
getting blatantly bored.

I swam with zealous strokes in sapphire blue waters of
the swimming pool,
Floating occasionally with my vision riveted to the
placid moon,
The exuberance prevalent at the start was slowly
dwindling,
And the very perception of crossing parallel stretches
of water,
Rendered me feeling dreadful and bored.

I drove my parrot green automobile at breathtaking
speeds,
Manoeuvring dexterously through sharp bends of the
valley,
With mesmerizing tunes o music piercing me like steel
arrows,
Days sped into ghastly nights; the rally was yet far
from accomplished,
And I prayed fervently to god to exit from this
utterly boring rigmarole.

I sprawled a bunch of dotted cards on the fur topped
desk,
Shuffling them with meticulous precision and care,
With a scintillating bottle of rum lying by my side;
As the vigils of dusk took a stranglehold on day,
the once coherent images; struck me as indecipherably
blurred,
twin pairs of my eyes were bored; succumbing gladly to
indispensable sleep.

I chanted unrelentingly the mantra of god,
Swaying with robust energy to the omniscient
personality of the creator,
Drowned in totality with the essence of celestial
rays,
Fulfilling the imperative quota of duties; towards my
counterpart human
being,
The ritual slaughtered traces of boredom from my life;
Reinforcing exasperated avenues of my mind with the
vastness of spiritual
creation. 

Submitted: Sunday, August 17, 2014

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