Zipping around
with no superior purpose
Than to
entertain.
Helmed
by monied ones leading luxurious lives
Wanting to
escape worries of inequalities that abound.
Great black
boats on the water
Chugging
along around the world and back again,
Laden
with great tons of consumable matter.
Beasts
of burden, tools with the sole purpose
Of feeding
the voracious appetite of this insatiable world.
Blue
boats on the water,
Heading
to a place of magic and mayhem where spinning wheels tell tales and twist
fortunes
Wild and
whimsical.
Over the
years, many have come and gone
But the few
who stayed on witnessed the waves of a million riches won and lost.
Red and
white boats on the water,
Back and
forth to just beyond the horizon.
So near yet
largely unknown,
A realm of
discovery for reclusive metropolitan dwellers
Hustling
across the water by day, only to retreat into tranquillity after dark.
Junk boats
on the water,
Brown
and black, stunning red sails.
Mystical
and iconic remnants of maritime greatness.
Transformed
into ornate ferries
Propagating
fairy-tale visions of the glorious past to myriad wanderers.
A motley
multitude of workman boats on the water,
Commandeered
by hard-working crew of vital skills, irreplaceable
Yet innocuous
to all but a discerning few.
The best
ones of them all,
Fulfilling
and meaningful lives spent in virtuous isolation.
Satyajit
Venkatraman
30th December 2017
