Golden Star

I read the papers today,
The headline was stale.
What got printed in black and white,
Gave way for a grander scheme in play.

I went back to my day,
And the list of things to do-
Doable, manageable and executable.
Items to be scratched out,
Boxes to be ticked.
At the end of it,
I expect to get rewarded with
A mental, golden star for productivity.

But what I really want to do
Doesn’t find a mention on this list.
I want a read a good book,
And fall asleep after a chapter or two.

I want to play golf.
Not because I am particularly good at it,
But because it would be a break
From getting overwhelmed with
Items to be scratched out and
Boxes to be ticked.
And that mental, golden star for productivity.

I want to play golf
To only draw comfort from –
Not playing it well enough
And yet, being okay with
Not trying to be good enough,
Or not being good enough.

This poem was inspired by a conversation with Richa Sharma.

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