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Island of Poets

In the very middle of the Indian Ocean there is a small unnamed island.By 'small' I mean 'really small'.Lush greenery and pretty flowers all around.A small sparkling lake with brown ducks swimming lazily.Beautiful butterflies flit around.In the middle of the island there is a hillock named "phuldungri" which can be scaled with ease.Once you go to the top the view is breathtaking with the cottony clouds floating above and the swish of the sea waves in the distance on the whitish yellow sands.Who named the hillock "phuldungri" I really don't know.

A very popular and renowned poet was struck by an evil virus called 'Writers Block".Big Poet didn't know what it meant.It so happened that even with the most expensive writing instruments not a single word came off.The nice and caring doctor Dr.Lollypop advised the poet to spend 5-6 days on Poets Island to detoxify his mind. Dr. Lollypop was in fact a big fan of Big Poet. 

Mr Big Poet packed his bags and glumly hopped onto a Cessna taking care to take his survival kit with him( first aid box,dry food and so on) Dr Lollypop had warned him that he would be alone on the "Island" with no electricity or modern amenities.The Cessna took off leaving Big Poet and his camping stuff on the "island" 

Poet spent the whole day laboriously pitching his canvas tent in a grassy clearing close to the lake.He dinnered (?) dined on three pieces of sweetened chapatti and two large boiled potatoes."Dinner never tasted this good" he thought.... The lake's water was sweet and drinkable.He filled up his pots and pans and slowly walked to the sea shore to see the sunset.All the poems he had read about sunset came to his mind.

Being inspired by the pretty painting on the sky canvas Poet thought of writing another poem on sunset.But no words came to his entranced mind.He gazed and gazed and felt very happy indeed.Taking out his trusted swanky cellphone he tried to "voice record".Battery was exhausted.There wasn't any chance of recharging it.He threw away the expensive cellphone into the sea which smiled at his foolhardiness.Big Poet began laughing aloud and guffawing incessantly like a lunatic."No words can describe sunset" he concluded.

Smearing his body with insect repellant cream Poet lay inside the comfortable tent and passed out into a deep sleep thinking of the magic of colours which could never be captured in words or for that matter a painting by the best artist on earth.Dawn embraced the island with the lively chirping of unknown birds waking Poet from his dreamy slumber."This is the best sleep I've ever had since I was a child...There is something here which I don't have back home... I wonder what that is..."

For no apparent reason Poet was feeling very very happy.Wearing a flimsy pair of drawers he trudged to the lake with his clothes and a bar of washing and bathing soap.Taking all the time he had he scrubbed and washed his clothes in the early morning sun.With the perfumed Lux bathing soap he had a wonderful cool bath in the lake water. All the time while he was washing and bathing,  silent brown ducks looked at him warily with curiosity and amusement.Poet made a clicking sound with his tongue (something like a frog's croak) and four ducks swam to him.Never had he stroked a ducks feathers before.Eyes closed ,Poet felt the birds warm heartbeat with is wet palm. "How can I eat the flesh of these loving creatures??!!" Big Poet's clothes and body shone alongwith his heart and mind.

Late that morning Big Poet ate two Britannia Thin Arrowroot biscuits and a cup of piping hot sweet tea and set off in search of some vegetables and fruit.Dr Lollypop had told him of the fruits and vegetables.A basket of luck had followed Poet to the "island" or at least Big Poet thought so... Soon he came across an orchard and a wild vegetable patch where he found plenty of edible fruit and vegetables.He stuffed his duffel bag with them and returned "home" to make himself a wonderful and tasty brunch.He added a squeeze of lemon ,a tiny pinch of salt and a hot chilly.The chapattis which he had brought with him had become crunchy-brittle and inedible. But Big Poet had no regrets... Not even a milligram of unhappiness entered his mind on which detox program was already running successfully. Next evening he trudged to the seashore and again watched the evening extravaganza to his hearts content.He found his way to his tent using a flashlight.

Day three found Poet atop Phuldungri snap at sunrise."What is the difference between sunrise and sunset..?.." he thought aloud.A screeching crawler screeched "Maybe hope and destination.."Big Poet felt like penning something on sunrise but lazing on the perch he didn't have the will to use his costly Beta Parker metal ball pen.He had brought a laptop with him but its monitor was shattered when he had tried to kill a slithering snake with a big rock.

The sun made its eternal arc overhead which Poets eyes followed lying on his back on Phuldungri's grass amidst exquisite unknown flower bushes."I should've studied Botany and not Physics" he thought.The tyrannical devilish Botanical names were way too difficult for Big Poet in his university days."I haven't become another Einstein or Bose and neither am I a Booker Prize winner... I have wasted half my  life chasing the golden photons of money.When I had about just began to find something the virus invaded my fingers."

Poet took a luxurious bath daily in the sparkling lake while the ducks and fish played with his feet and torso.He never had the heart to eat fish or for that matter even any creature.On Day Four he was wandering with his 0.22 rifle and was face to face with a pink innocent ,glassy-eyed white,fluffy rabbit.The rabbit gazed and Poet gazed.Big Poet did not shoot....

The Cessna was to pick Poet up on the 6th Day.By then Big Poet had forgotten all about his life in the city.He was contented and happy and at complete peace with himself.Lying on his back the night before just outside his tent Poet had seen the twinkling stars far away and revelled on his own littleness.The thought of writing poetry had vanished from his mind.

The drone of the aircraft was heard late that morning.The Cessna landed somewhere close to the sea.The pilot was a well built Sikh Gurnaam Singh. They shook hands "Are you ready to return?.." A blank stare from Big prompted Gurnaam to ask " Something wrong..? !! Are you sick or something?!..." "..Not in the least Sardarji.I never felt better.".. "Shall I lend a hand in packing your belongings?" .... "No ! let them be where they are for the next visitor..."

Big Poet never wrote poetry again but did not forget to thank Dr.Lollypop profusely.Big Poet and Dr. Lollypop are best friends now. Someone told me that Dr Lollypop is now writing short poems.