OCD

The clock's tick is in tandem with the regulator's tick;

He moves it to adjust the fan's speed,

And says, "Now it's too slow, now too fast........too slow, too fast".

Oh Grandpa, for how long will this last!;

The ticking pierces my mind, enslaves my tongue,

which blurts out these words in utter frustration.

In a flash of a second, see, I regret,

Regret losing my sanity over such trifles.

He is but an elderly man, with some XYZ Obsessive Compulsive Disorder,

Pardon me Lord, I atone.

The grips of old-age, strong on him,

Riddle him with those recurrent rituals;

And how dare I fuss over it.

Ahan! I hear my phone's "ting";

Oh, what a nice monotony breaker intervenes.

A 'fakebook' notification! Got ten likes on my status;

Ecstatic!, Oh, notice another "ting",

Alas, that was a text regarding a data plan from a telecom company.

Why not go through 'thatsApp' for a while, I decide.

Scroll and read older messages, that's a nice time pass.

But wait! I still hear those traumatising "ticks".

Grandpa's now turning the lights On and Off.

May be that light in the corner's not required,"Tick", the light turned Off.

But the room seems darker to him now,"Tick", turned On.

May be the other bulb should be turned Off, a "Tick" again.

I unlock my phone, scroll through the gallery;

And after a moment, keep it aside.

Grandpa is busy now, reading the newspaper.

I wonder what's next in his compulsive ritual.

For now, it's good to see his eyes turn from column to column,

And all lost in his reading chore.

Let me check my phone once,

A message in 'thatsApp', a mail or a friend request;

There may be something that needs to be checked.

But there has been no "ting", says my mind;

I toy with the dilemma and guess what,

Fingers already unlocked the phone and I land in 'thatsApp'.

To change the status would be a nice idea,

Or may be forward a joke to a friend.

How can I forget that! Didn't check 'fakebook' likes since fifteen minutes!

The count has increased, good going;

Scroll and check the newsfeed then,

Monotony Bombardment....

There's nothing new, all same as fifteen minutes ago.

The slow and deep snores reach my ears,

Grandpa is dozing off on the rest chair, the newspaper on him.

I take it out of his loose grip.

His mind seems to enjoy sleep's sojourn.

Oh wait!, It's been five minutes since I last checked my phone.

Let me just check my phone, there may be something,

That's to be checked.