Passion…unbridled

She opened the first chapter of the book, with an intention to read

At least a few pages, but despite trying hard, she could not succeed

In paying attention, the page unturned remained

The attempt at reading had exacerbated her pain..

*

In her old life, a bibliophile she had been

Without a book in her hand she was rarely seen

Introverted and self-absorbed, she was often found

Reading in a corner, oblivious of the world around

*

The love of her life and her love for books happened to be intertwined

Around her love for books she had their lives designed

They read in companionship and had spirited discussions

About the books that had left on them lasting impressions

*

When a cruel twist of fate left her all alone

Overwhelmed by her grief, she abandoned the first love that she had known

Even after months had passed, she could not being herself to read

The identity of her as a reader she seemed to have buried

*

One day a call from her favorite bookstore she received

There was a book waiting for her, she was intrigued

It was a gift from her late husband, the order for which had been placed while he was alive

It was a rare first edition, which explained the time it had taken to arrive

*

She had no desire to read, but she accepted the book anyway,

Trying to read the book, she would open it every day

She did not make it past the first page for a whole week

Just when the prospect of her actually reading had turned bleak

She turned a page, then another, and before she knew

She had read the entire book, not realizing where time flew

*

She went back to reading voraciously like she used to

But she realized that there was something more she needed to do

A book club exclusively for those who had suffered a loss she did create

Healing through reading books she wanted to facilitate

*

Many grieving individuals have found support and healing through her venture

Her love for reading has helped many non-readers embark on reading adventures

You have not completed your Spanish lesson today, the language learning app chides me

You started a module but left it unfinished- my professional learning website derides me

You have not posted in five days- the blogging platform reminds me

Whenever I slack in my routine, the internet finds me

To nudge me to action, to send reminders gentle

In keeping me on track, these subtle nudges are instrumental

But there are days when consistency I cannot maintain

And getting these reminders make me feel like an adolescent again

Nagged by parents and teachers to complete work assigned

As an adult, to tolerate being nagged I am not inclined

*

These reminders of things I have neglected to do

Make me feel defeated, and a bit guilty too

I feel I have failed to appropriately allocate

My time to everything I have kept on my plate

*

Another notification to complete an unfinished task just flashed across my screen

I must finish it now, and keep my record clean

I rush through life and then sit down at my desk to create

Artwork that with my culture and my roots resonates

I start drawing in a rush, I have given myself an hour or so

To create a complex and intricate design, although

I know how to cut corners by omitting details

I must complete my project before my patience fails

*

I have chosen Madhubani art for inspiration today

The drawing is simple enough but the distinctive way

In which figures are drawn involves outlining then in double lines

So I must slow down and painstakingly outline

Every figure with a black marker twice

If I do it in a hurry, the effect is not nice

I immerse myself in the process, trying to keep it neat

I have spent two hours by the time I accomplish this feat

But the passage of time has completely escaped

My notice, I feel calm and centered in my place

*

All art is potentially therapeutic, but I can tell

How Indian folk art tackles my anxiety so well-

In Madhubani art outlining with double lines

In Mandala with its circles and symmetry well defined

In Warli art drawing multiple figures of the same size

In Gond art, stippling with dots of paint- all have made me realize

That a therapeutic effect is built into the expression

Of these art forms- repetitive movements are executed with intention

Creating folk art works for me like a practice of mindfulness

I slow down, focus deeply and lose myself in the process

*

Healing through art is something my ancestors inherently knew

In trying to stay connected to my roots, I am discovering it too

When I started writing, I was afraid that my writing would appear

Too simplistic, too childish, too boring-this fear

Had kept my hands tied for so long that I had not dared

To transform my thoughts into words, I was scared

To put my writing out there for the world to see

I was held back by my vulnerability

But one day I decided to take the leap

Since then I have managed to keep

My commitment to writing on a regular basis

My blog has become my oasis

*

I had expected my writing to improve over the years

But that is not the case, it appears

There are days when I feel my words fall short

To describe what I want, and I want to abort

My plans to write because I am not good enough

Letting go of those self-defeating thoughts is tough

But so far I have succeeded in getting back each time

Even if my writing is not good, it is authentically mine..

Is it just midlife or an actual diagnosis that I should be given

Is it my personal shortcoming or can I be forgiven

For being disorganized, blaming it on ADHD

A disorder being diagnosed with increasing frequency

In middle-aged women who seem to struggle

With organization, appearing frazzled as they try to juggle

Multiple responsibilities on their plates, constantly overflowing

In different directions at once, their minds are going

Wondering what is wrong with them, when advice they seek

Many of them are given this diagnosis that seems bleak-

They are diagnosed with attention deficit and hyperactivity

I wonder what I would do if this were me…

*

When midlife hormones, brains and busy lives collide

For a woman struggling with balance it is difficult to decide

Whether to seek professional help or to deal with it with a brave face

This is the dilemma before me, I am also afraid to embrace

The identity of a patient with a “condition”

Even if I have ADHD, I want to escape recognition

*

So I sit here wondering whether the reason I am so disorganized

Is that I have attention deficit hyperactivity unrecognized

But the very next moment I will myself to get back on track

And prove to myself that the ability to get organized I do not lack

May I interrupt you for a second to say,

Would you be willing to put your device away

For the duration of your visit with me

If it is your patient portal that you are trying to see

Then I assure you that your information is right here

And it would not be updated immediately, I fear

Perhaps you have questions on your test results that I can answer for you

But if you are glued to your screen it is rather hard to do

Maybe there is a book you are reading on your device

I get that you are engrossed in the plot, but you might miss my advice

And if you are watching a video, I am forced to compete for attention

Involving both sight and sound, it was not my intention

To be loud to drown out the noise from your phone

There appears to be an intruder in the conversation that we should be having alone

*

If you do not understand something I say, I am more than willing to repeat

But with a device for your attention, I am not expected to compete

I am guilty of being behind a computer too, I admit

That is a behavior the medical community is trying hard to limit

But both of us have to unglue our eyes from our screens

So we both understand what the other person means

*

The instructions are printed on the paperwork you receive

But later I get a message from you regarding clarification on something I believe

I had discussed with you during your visit, in detail

But evidently in making myself understood I did fail

As I reiterate in writing what I had already explained

I pray you would stay off your screen during a visit with me again

English contains around 170,000 words in current use

That seems like a rather small number from which to choose

Words to describe everything, but a native English speaker knows

About 20000 to 35000 words, so there is ample room for one’s vocabulary to grow

Only 3000 words make up ninety percent of conversations

With 5000 words, you can pretty much write a dissertation

But if you include technical jargon, neologisms and obsolete words too

The number swells to over a million- because English tends to accrue

Specialized words that originate in different spheres

Words get created, added, evolve, or disappear

*

As a word-collector, I have seen English being described

An average of 14.7 words every day this language imbibes

It is the richest language by far, and in a way I should be

Happy that I learnt English as a child, thanks to the colonial legacy

The one habit that each one of us should cultivate

Is that of noticing things, before attention dissipates

*

There is a lot to notice in an ordinary day

But we live our lives, wasting our faculties away

Without noticing the colors, shapes, smells or sounds

Of the varied and unique stimuli around

You cannot notice anything without slowing down your pace

Or setting aside distractions, which is a challenge all of us face

*

When you notice something you had previously ignored

You discover beauty you had not seen before

You feel joyful, your stress levels decline

To notice things is beneficial for your mind

*

If all of us slowed down to notice, we could be

Much happier than we are currently

You are running through life at a dizzying pace

Not caring where you are going, until life brings you face to face

With an adversity that forces you to slam the brakes

One sentinel event is all it takes

For life as you were leading it to come to a grinding halt

And you are left disoriented as your defense mechanisms default

No longer work, you have to come up with a game plan new

The routine that was working is no longer going to work for you

*

At first, changing course seems like a colossal inconvenience

But after going through the initial frustration intense

You realize this as a golden opportunity

For you to slow down mentally and physically

And take time to reflect and redesign

Your life that with your values and goals aligns

*

The rat race was leeching the life out of you

You stepped out because of an adverse event, that is true

But this can turn out to be a blessing in disguise

This is what you needed all along, you realize

Women dancing with abandon I have always admired

To be able to dance I have had the desire

But I lack the co-ordination needed to pull off dance moves

When I hear a catchy number I still want to groove

*

By serendipity I found myself as a participant

In a group dance, it was not my intent

To carve out time in my schedule fully packed

To practice dance steps- since leisure time I already lacked

It seemed foolhardy to add this to my plate

But I did anyway, it was an intervention from fate

*

In the beginning I could not understand

Anything beyond basic dance steps, my feet and hands

Seemed to move with a mind of their own

I seemed to be charting through territory unknown

Everything was too complicated, too new

I worried it was something I would not be able to do

*

As I picked up the rhythm, beat by beat

Listening to the music on repeat

The steps started making sense to me

I practiced them both physically and mentally

I found myself making slow but steady progress

I grew in confidence, I was afraid a little less

Not disappointing my group was uppermost in my mind

Therefore to practice diligently I was inclined

*

I wish I could claim that my final performance was flawless

But that was not the case, I forgot a few steps

The overall performance was well received

At the end of it all. I was quite relieved

*

I am grateful to have been given this chance

I learnt that I can learn to dance!

The age-old advice is to write about something you know

Instead, write about the ideas of which you cannot let go-

That one story that begs itself to be written

The character in your mind with whom you are smitten

The theme that you keep coming back to

Write about the topic that has chosen you..

*

When you write about something you are obsessed with, it shows

That you are invested in your writing, the reader knows

The creative juices run freely as you write

Writer’s block is something you don’t have to fight

I started reading an article that initially appeared

Quite interesting, but as I read further, the language seemed weird

There were metaphors woven into nearly every sentence

In a piece of prose describing an ordinary life experience

Words were painstakingly chosen but woefully out of place

I labored through the article at a painfully slow pace

While the overall premise of the article was interesting enough

The excessive use of literary devices made reading it tough

*

This reminded me of school English assignments which we would complete

Using difficult words and idiomatic phrases, in this way we would compete

With each other for grades, we were under the impression erroneous

That using flowery language and uncommon words was a plus

I carried that impression with me well into adulthood

Using as many difficult words and phrases as I could

*

I have turned in the opposite direction, now I advocate

Using language plain and simple, that does not suffocate

The essence of what one is trying to convey

I now use simpler words to say what I want to say

*

Regardless of the language, the article was good

Even though it required effort to be understood