Passion…unbridled

At the risk of sounding obnoxious

Let me blow my bugle in a way pompous…

In a life that rarely does any plan follow

The ability to say “I told you so”

Gives me a smug satisfaction, I confess

I want to celebrate my brief success

Each time my prediction comes true

I stand straighter, feel more confident too

In a chaotic world where time for reflection I struggle to find

Being proved right assures me that my mind

Still functions despite all the distractions around

It gives me positive reinforcement profound!

Why is it that I’m left wondering often these days

What exactly is it that people are trying to say..

I believe I have over English language a grasp quite good

There is no reason that most writing in contemporary English should

Be inscrutable to me, yet often I find

Words that leave me scratching my mind

To their exact meaning, many of them seem to be new

They seem to have risen in the last decade, out of the blue

Seen everywhere on instagram, often by hashtags preceded

They make me feel like my gray cells have receded..

Then there are words that seem to have jumped out

From the pages of a dictionary, no doubt

I have to exercise my mind to translate

Exotic words that carry excessive weight

Perhaps reading difficult words is a taste acquired

That has evaded me, or maybe I am not wired

To comprehend language when straightforward it is not

Or, maybe, here is the final (and likely true) thought:

I am growing old, my mental faculties have declined

Such that new words (and concepts) are not grasped by mind..

To rejuvenate and reset I need a break

Ironically, from myself, I need it for my sake

A break from the obsessive, anxious me

Who goes through life with a running commentary

Of imaginary disasters in her mind

I need to separate myself from that person to find

The fun-loving, laissez-faire version of me

That has been lost in the bustle of life completely

From the current me, on the edge always

I must try my best to part ways

I visualize the snapping of a string to signal detachment

I let go of what I perceive as a pathological attachment

I mentally lock the anxious version of me

In a closed room, metaphorically setting myself free…

*

Let me feel a new lightness

Let my calmer self express

Itself, at least while the illusion lasts

A new leaf I’ve turned, an old skin I’ve cast

The Truth… that painful, shameful, unpleasant entity

Kept in secret closets, hidden, its ugly identity

Staying under wraps, shielded from prying eyes

Those patched wraps of half-truths, almost-lies..

With passage of time, getting heavier as well

As it soaks up the burden of every lie you tell..

*

Telling the truth is something that you

For the sake of your sanity, have to do

But how would the truth suddenly unfold

Unravel all previous fables you have told

If you try to embellish it, again you would

Go down the spiral of lies that you never should…

*

So how do you tell the truth after hiding it for years?

You weave a story around it, acknowledge your fears

Write it down for the world to see

Fiction may set the hidden truth free..

Your soul would experience relief profound

Telling your story is how catharsis can be found…

What do you do to feel like you’re doing something worthwhile

Making a positive difference, perhaps making someone smile

*

Your unprocessed baggage weighs heavily on you

In your negativity you make others miserable too

And sink deeper into a spiral of guilt and shame

You spend hours assigning yourself the blame

Somehow hoping you would guilt yourself enough

To throw away your negative stance, but that’s a proposition tough

*

So how do you turn around 180 degrees?

Discard your pessimism, get a new lease

Of life in an attitude with positivity imbued

Replace each negative thought when it intrudes

On your mind with a positive one each day

Bit by bit you find negativity chipping away

Until positive thoughts fill your heart and soul..

You can contribute to the world, now that you feel whole..

You may have a smooth sailing for a while

With the spring in your step, you may go an extra mile

But sooner or later a roadblock you would find

Tangible or figurative, crystal clear or ill-defined

That suddenly slams the brakes on your high speed

Something that had seemed unlikely indeed..

*

When faced with a roadblock you could fight it tooth and nail

Push past it tenaciously, you could succeed or you could fail

Should you then turn around, give up or find another way

Or should you wait patiently for the storm to pass away..

*

You are a go-getter, doing nothing goes against

The very fabric of you, increases your angst

But sometimes on every other door you may knock

To find it closed- stuck between a hard place and a rock

You are forced to sit back and passively wait

Hope and pray fervently for your troubles to abate

*

Sometimes waiting it out is what you need most

Instead of futile running from pillar to post

Waiting gives you precious time and a perspective new

Smooth sailing hardly creates the best milieu

To think, reflect, plan and contemplate

While a roadblock forces you into this state..

Quiet contemplation new answers does reveal

Slowing down gives you time to rejuvenate and heal

*

These are notes to myself as much as you

Faced with a roadblock I would try to wait too..

In a rare moment of inspiration ideas flow from my mind

Effortlessly into words and sentences they find

Themselves being arranged, and I have the urge

To cement them, let them coherently converge

On paper, so that my ideas with the world can be shared..

Suddenly I realize that unfortunately I’ve dared

To present my ideas on a controversial issue

My thoughts challenge the paradigm too..

I live in a free world, I have freedom of expression

Through my words I just want to share my impression

In the polarized, politicized, fractious world of today

I wonder if my opinion could invite harm in some way..

*

Unfortunately, this is the world we live in now

That tolerance of artistic freedom does not allow

Where intolerance of a writer’s words can culminate

In a life threatening assault, propelled by hate..

*

In this world, I wonder if I need to see

Over my shoulder before expressing myself freely

This is the zeitgeist-artistic freedom bleeds

At the altar of human intolerance indeed

Being a workaholic is not good

For your health, therefore you should

Make time to pursue leisure activities

Make relaxation a priority please…

There are many attractive options for you

Many come with hefty price tags too

You need to relax, that much you know

But your leisure time should be used effectively, so

That at work you can be more efficient

After a break, deliver 110 percent…

An hour long yoga or barre session may be

The perfect leisure time activity

Combining relaxation with exercise

Is a time-saving strategy quite wise

Or try a class learning a new skill

That is relaxing for you and fits the bill

You are an overachiever, you’ve got this obviously

Your leisure time is the key to your productivity…

*

You have carved out time to relax every day

But you have no time left for yourself anyway

Your leisure time has become, in a manner unfortunate

Another chore to be ticked off your already full plate..

Would you consider taking some steps towards me

I would then do the same maybe

Couldn’t we meet each other halfway

Find common ground, a happy medium someday

Who is wrong, who is right and where

At this point I’m too weary to care

Stating my point of view again and again

Has made it appear old, insipid and plain

Having held stubbornly to my jaded opinion

I am ready to toss my obstinacy into oblivion

And open my mind to a viewpoint that’s different

To hear you explain your thoughts is my intent

Then I shall explain my perspective too

And have an intellectual discourse with you

Maybe the discussion would then generate

New ideas, new questions; new opportunities create

*

Our gulf is wide, waiting to be bridged one day

Let’s move forward, meet each other halfway…

When does ambition borne out of lofty ideas indeed

Degrade, get sullied, morph into unbridled greed?

*

What starts with a vision and takes shape gradually

With astuteness, risk-taking, intense labor, and naturally

A good dose of luck- that makes a dream come alive

With infusion of passion, the project continues to thrive

Continued growth leads to transformation

From individual enterprise to corporation..

*

Ah, here comes the topic of heated discussion

Profit making machines are these corporations

Thus their machinations invariably lead

To the thorny issue of corporate greed

Pervasive in the way business is conducted these days

Robbing the common man in creative ways..

*

I doubt the visionaries who built their empires

Had greed as their motivation or primary desire

But their ambition that led their businesses to grow

Over time, did the seeds of greed sow..

*

I wonder where the inflection point lies

Where pure ambition undergoes its demise

And gets replaced by monstrous greed…

That progression needs to be interrupted indeed

The system is broken, its victims on their own

Trying to navigate through giant crevasses alone

Shortage is the operative word here

Of supplies, personnel, patience- I fear

Overworked individuals close to their limits have reached

Workplace ethics have been tarnished and breached

Team spirit and casual camaraderie

Unfortunately one can only rarely see

Some brave individuals are still standing tall

Keeping the organization afloat, after all

*

How do you begin to reverse the course?

Is there a magical formula to force

Broken pieces, jaded spirits, exhausted bodies

To join together, emerge from the fugue, to seize

Every opportunity to stay afloat, albeit small

To try to rise again, abort the free fall

To defy a system’s nature innate

To increase its entropy, to reverse the state

Of disarray, disorder, despair and dismay

To make consistent progress every day?

*

The answer lies in keeping hope alive

You come out stronger when under pressure you thrive

Every cloud has to be silver-lined at the end of the day

You cannot heal until you are broken in some way…

How, after all these years, she wonders

Her assimilation still feels incomplete

Always treading with care to avoid cultural blunders

Afraid that expectations she cannot meet

*

She knows to avoid those nuances that are shown

By new immigrants from her motherland

Hyper vigilant not to commit errors unknown

Staying quiet if something she doesn’t understand..

*

She reasons that she is in a nation diverse

With innumerable citizens who look like her

Yet she feels she is in an alien universe

She knows in subtle ways she would always differ

*

How does she explain to her daughter self-assured

The alienation that she feels in her bones

It’s like an affliction that cannot be cured

It’s omnipresent, at least in the undertones

*

There is an invisible divide that cannot be

Bridged-because that would deprive her of her identity

The blessing of making it as an immigrant in a new land

With the curse of being a perpetual outsider, goes hand in hand..