Passion…unbridled

What about it is so surprising

That she can see eyebrows rising

When she expresses the desire for more

Be it food, freedom, ambition, they are keeping score

In no sphere should she expect to exceed

Whatever the men in her life have, her needs

Can never be allowed to surpass theirs’

To blatantly express her desires, how does she dare

Caring for her family should bring her happiness

She is selfish to seek individual success..

*

Patriarchy has roots so deep

That women still have to climb hills steep

When they try to place themselves first

Because fragile egos could burst

My professional work has an overarching presence

On all aspects of my life it has an effect intense

It spills over, occupying every nook and cranny

Of my life, unless I consciously deny it entry

Some days it becomes a commitment limitless

And the work I otherwise love begins to oppress

When work takes me away physically or mentally

I miss out on everything else that is important to me

Time spent with my family, or in pursuits creative

Is lost when duty calls and I try to give

My one-hundred percent to the work I must do

I keep working, but resentment builds up, it’s true

*

When work is a calling, you cannot ignore

The demands of work; plans that were made before

Cannot be carried out, work always seems to succeed

In getting its way, in usurping all other needs..

*

I constantly try to set boundaries and separate

Work and home, but the balance remains delicate

The scales tip towards work invariably

It is not the place where I want to be..

Standardize everything, make a template

Have spreadsheets, keep calendars, schedules create

To maximize efficiency, and stressors minimize

Be productive- at every step in life, strategize..

*

While cognitively I agree, this is what my mind accepts

As the key to success, my heart protests

Too much structure leaves no space

For creativity, when excessive organization I face

I become a machine, at a spinal level operate

How can working like this excellence generate?

*

When this is applied to my work as a physician

I can do certain tasks with absolute precision

But the art of medicine does not find

Adequate expression when I am confined

Within narrow constraints of checkboxes to tick

And limited time to interact with patients vulnerable and sick

*

Instead of an over-structured rigid template

Let me have a framework on which I can create

A tapestry that reflects critical thinking and innovation

To find, in every sphere of life, creative solutions

I live life in a constant struggle

To snatch back stolen time, as I try to juggle

Multiple responsibilities in the space of a day

I fight sleep and exhaustion in every way

To get some time for myself to splurge

On things I like, some time to purge

Stressful thoughts of things to do

From my mind, find some clarity too

But even as I try to relax there is a voice

Within me that criticizes me for my choice

To “waste” time when my task list is incomplete

Worrying about that list does further deplete

The time that I can in solitude spend

So I end up sleeping later than I intend

I rebel against the lack of time adequate

Thus I continue to procrastinate

Going to bed, this cycle never ends

I still never have enough free time to spend

What if I were to fall out of the rat race

What if one day I decided to embrace

The languidness of a snail’s pace..

What changes in my life would I face?

*

I thrive on exorbitant amounts of caffeine

To buzz through days, full of adrenaline

Trying to outrun time, the fastest runner indeed

My keywords in life are efficiency and speed

So the deliberate act of slowing down would entail

Trying to shift my activities to a different time-scale

To literally smell the roses, listen to the birds

To read much more slowly, to savor each word

From devices I would have to separate

So that context-switching I can eliminate…

It’s daunting to think of all the different ways

In which I would incorporate a snail’s pace in my days

*

I’ve been running on the hedonic treadmill

Life seems to spiral out of control still

The idea of switching to a snail’s pace

Is to let my life spiral back in to place!

I’m not good at making lists at all

I place my faith in memory and recall

But the holidays are a time when I need

Meticulously made lists indeed

Holiday gifting is a task delicate

If I forget someone, I am tempting fate

There are always more people in my orbit

Than the initial count, who deserve a gift

Some had unexpectedly gifted me last year

They must be included in the gifting sphere

Then I obsess over the gift value

It is helpful to have a list for it too

So I can compare values from last year

Before loosening my purse strings dear..

I refer to the list each time I’m at a store

When I think I’m done, the list is revised once more

*

Now let me go back to my list and see

If gift shopping has been completed satisfactorily…

(Where Morocco carries the dreams of Arab world and Africa in World Cup Soccer, British economy trails behind that of India while getting a PM of Indian origin- the former colonies are asserting themselves in a world where the playing field has never been level…)

They didn’t ask for any apology

They didn’t ask for any reparation

They moved forward despite their history

Bloodied and soiled by colonization

They hunkered down and quietly toiled

Equality with the colonizers was a distant dream

They powered through poverty and turmoil

To rebuild what was plundered, a monumental task it seemed

*

The road is difficult, uneven the playing field

But their strong nerves are learning not to yield

To the deeply ingrained dictates of colonial power

To cut the cord of colonization is the need of the hour..

Let the world see those faces ignored

Let their hopes and ambitions soar

In this post-colonial world let a new order be unfurled

Let them take center-stage, the denizens of the third world

Too many decisions to make in a day

Too many variables that get in the way

Of making the best possible decision

I wish I had the kind of precision

That in the realm of artificial intelligence resides

Maybe I should look at AI platforms for advice

It would be a leap of faith to trust a machine

But if I do it, maybe that would mean

Less decision fatigue, better sleep at night

My emotions around decisions I would not have to fight

What’s more, if the result of a decision is negative

At least with guilt I wouldn’t have to live

Nor would someone else be implicated

Blaming a bot would make life less complicated…

*

I am quite technologically challenged, I confess

Therefore to use an AI-driven process

Is just a pipe dream at the moment

I’ll continue making decisions with the best possible intent

Why is it that each time I try to look

For something specific in a nook

Of my home that seems to have cavernous space

I never find what I need, but in its place

I find a smattering of things that forgotten lie

Tools, trinkets, jewelry, pretty much anything under the sky

I am overjoyed at times, at other times dismayed

Because for a duplicate of something, hard-earned cash I’ve paid

Then I shake my head and marvel at all the stuff

That I keep buying, and yet it never seems enough

For my greatest first world problem I need

More self-control to rein in my greed

The money I spend languishes in objects of little use

Instead, spending my money on experiences I should choose

*

The ability to buy what I want is a privilege, of course

But I cannot keep track of my possessions, I am forced

To spend precious time and energy on trying to find

My things, it adds to the clutter in my mind…

*

For now, let me just try to enjoy my treasure

Finding beautiful old stuff has given me pleasure

When I want to give a reply tongue-in-cheek

It is a blessing when I don’t have to speak

I type a text message or e-mail with a snarky bent

I am often passive-aggressive or sarcastic in my comment

The act of typing words reflecting my annoyance

Calms down my irritation, makes my impertinence

Evident to me- the words I have typed I read again

Almost always, from sending the message I refrain

In its existing form, either the language I modify

To get rid of the snark, or delete it completely, before I

Am tempted to press send, and rub someone the wrong way

Therefore I prefer written communication to verbal any day

*

Words once spoken cannot be retrieved

But a message can be retyped or deleted before it’s received

In composing a message in an emotional state

My emotions get reined in, my annoyance dissipates

I don’t end up placing my foot in my mouth

I don’t commit a faux-pas I can do without..

There’s a situation I cannot change, I know

Yet worry creeps up on me, stealthily so

I cannot concentrate, I cannot work

Despite having no desire to shirk

My responsibilities, anxiety does not allow

Me to fulfill them, I become nonproductive somehow

As my awake moments are spent in futile worry

Life passes me by, the moments all blurry

When I try to sleep, worry snatches it away

Such that I sleepwalk through the day

*

I worry about something outside my control

But this worry controls me as a whole

My worry doesn’t affect the situation at all

But it keeps me preoccupied, lets me stumble and fall

I try to will my worry away, but tenaciously it clings

Worst case scenarios to my mind it brings

*

I wait anxiously for things to improve

So that beyond my worry I can move

And catch up on time and productivity lost

Worry exacts a very high cost..

Let me tell you something I’ve realized to be true

If you want to see people at their happiest this is what you should do

Find out about their area of passion

Regarding that subject, initiate a discussion

Watch their faces light up, their voices get animated

As they expound on their subject until they have disseminated

Information so detailed you can barely comprehend

All you should do is a patient ear lend

You may not understand the content but their exuberance you feel

What lights the spark in them, you’ve made them reveal..

*

I fall for the passion in people’s eyes

I have often been taken by surprise

By how indifference transforms into animation

When unwittingly their source of passion is mentioned

Passion changes people and then they

Change the world in a positive way