Treasure Island

Nikhil Parekh

(27/08/1977 / Dehradun, India)

the rubber man

I erased bulky manuscripts of scribbled literature,
assassinated traces of the strongest chalk smeared on
bounced with boisterous pliability on the surface of
hard ground,
squirmed with nonchalant ease through tiny openings of
sewage pipe,
clambered up erect walls of the edifice with
scrupulous proficiency,
didn't diffuse into splinters when thrown from
unprecedented heights of clock
traversed metal roads of the city at incredible
disentangled my body from the tightest rope and steel,
floated gently when laid on undulating waters of the
savage ocean,
wasn't fastidious at all about the food i consumed,
neither did i get engulfed in waves of dirt; staying
immaculate without
antiseptic baths,
had the uncanny ability to fit in all types of cloth,
pilfering into sealed vaults of bank; stripped of
articulate keys,
i didn't bleed a trifle when pierced by gleaming
i didn't transit to charred ash when burnt in boiling
i didn't suffocate to death when strangulated by
barbed wire,
i didn't vanish to heavenly isolation when divested of
food and water,
bubbling with robust energy even when deprived of a
placid nights sleep,
working like a maniac all 24 hours of the grueling
i made people laugh, existing for centuries on the
pious soil of earth,
a life complete with vibrant euphoria, bereft of dark
shadows of ostentation,
you must be wondering; whether i was god or an
celestial angel,
let me tell you folks that i was neither of the two,
i was infact made of pure slices of intricate rubber,
extracted in abundance from white streams of latex
dribbling down the rubber

Submitted: Monday, August 18, 2014

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