Passion…unbridled

Like a chasm in my heart that stays

Open- memories are lodged there, slow to decay

The ache trapped inside, forever imprisoned

Worse than anything I had envisioned

Something snapped broken, that does not mend

Making it harder at times to pretend

That I am all right, that I have moved on..

When an appendage of mine has permanently gone

Regret fills the void, I should’ve made more

Of the moments I had with them before

I can’t go back in time, so I live every day

In grief- a piece of my heart is torn away..

The voice of doubt speaks again, am I enough

Do I really know all this stuff

Did I just get lucky, or is it true

That I’m actually competent enough to do

Everything that I’m perceived as capable of doing

Why are there in my mind doubts brewing

About my capability- is it because I carry the burden

Of reasonable or unreasonable expectation

Is it a function simply of my youth (and lack of experience)

Sometimes these feelings of inadequacy are intense..

*

I have been working to reduce

This imposter syndrome which tends to produce

Doubts in my mind about my abilities

When a doubt arises I just seize

That feeling and toss it away

Thus keeping the imposter syndrome at bay

Quite honestly, it is a work in progress

But at least I’m able to enjoy my success

Without feeling like a fraud

At least my achievements I can applaud

I know it hurts when you put in effort supreme

And yet you are unable to realize your dream

The disappointment you feel when you work hard and yet

No reward or acknowledgment of your trouble you get

You know my child, your parents have gone through this too

And while I wish things could be better for you

It is a fact of life we all have to learn some day

Success is fickle, not to be counted on anyway…

*

Let me tell you what our scriptures have taught

Perform your duty with diligence, but expect not

The fruits of your labor, because attachment to outcome

Ultimately brings lasting happiness seldom..

*

Life is not a linear equation

In fact it is not an equation at all

Therefore if winning becomes a fixation

My dear child, you’re likely to fall…

Having spent years abroad, it was time for my return

With my elderly mother, I had visualized a tearful reunion

I entered my childhood home, my excitement barely contained

How was I to know that my euphoria would soon wane…

My mother shuffled to the door to greet me

She looked up at me quite expressionlessly

Smiled and politely asked me, “Who are you?”

She appeared mildly curious as if meeting someone new

Her helper told me most days she did not know her name

Her memory was lost, advanced dementia was to blame…

**

The enormity of this revelation hit me suddenly

I, my mother’s flesh and blood, was a stranger apparently

She had memory issues, this much I had heard

Of course she was growing old, to me it had not occurred

That her dementia could be so profound

That when I met her, she would mentally not be around

Someone seemed to have stabbed my heart

Whether it was guilt or sorrow, I could not tell them apart…

**

For her age she was in fair physical condition

Which is why the decline in her cognition

Felt so poignant- the body should be outlived by the soul

Not the other way round, what makes people whole

Is their mental faculty, their cognition

Which my mother had lost beyond recognition

I would talk to her, we would have conversations brief

But we could not reminisce about old days- that gave me grief

Sometimes I would see, or imagine maybe

A tiny flicker of recognition in her eyes, filling me with glee

For a moment I would audaciously hope for recovery

I would delude myself into thinking she had found her memory…

**

My mother- a shadow of her former self she is now

Her loss of memory does not allow

Her to be the person she used to be

Dementia has robbed her of her identity

What would I not give today

For her, just once, to say

That I am her child- show me that she knows

That I am back, I am close…

The virtues of orderliness have been

Impressed upon me forever, therefore I lean

Towards striving to tidy up spaces that I inhabit

Try to follow Marie Kondo’s advice, but it does not sit

Well with my disorderly tendencies innate

My stuff rearranges itself in a more entropic state

My desk, my room, my thoughts and moods can

Best be described as messy- my carefully crafted plans

Seldom see the light of the day; instead

Ideas that pop up randomly in my head

Get me excited and in action galvanized

Thus they are much more often realized

My cluttered desk, while not pleasing to the eye

Allows me to look at discarded projects afresh, that’s why

Leaving papers on the desk haphazardly

Is conducive to my thinking and creativity..

**

Tidy, clean, sanitized, decluttered,plain

In theory that’s the benchmark I try to attain

But if you ask whether joy that sparks in me

The truthful answer is not really..

I’d rather be messy, with creativity intact

Than be a slave to methodical order infact.

Growing up I had always heard

“It’s not that simple”… simple seemed a word

That denoted something too ordinary, too crass

Complexity was somehow associated with class

I was taught to use difficult words to appear erudite

To display gravitas, not be perceived a neophyte

Whether in art, literature, geometry or science

The real meaning was hidden between the lines

So what I understood at first was too simplistic

A deeper dive was needed, the world was made for a mystic

Or so it seemed- thus the lesson that I in childhood imbibed

Was that everything of importance had a complex vibe…

**

Now I am older, with experiences varied

From preconceived notions, I want myself freed

The more I understand the world, the more I realize

To simplify things is the way of the wise..

Complex operations broken down into parts

Speeches rendered in simple words that touch many hearts

A complicated equation using simple methods solved

From pompous complexity to simplicity- my perspective has evolved

Complicated recipes using ingredients galore

With flavors jostling for space, do not interest me anymore

Give me a simple meal composed of ingredients few

Where I can discern the meal’s composition too

Cleverly written stories with convoluted plots

Could be interesting to some, to me they are not..

Give me a simple yarn, a fable, any day

An ordinary story that teaches a lesson along the way

And who cares if I appear erudite

When my captive audience is my young child who wide-eyed

Listens to me expound on topics myriad

If he did not understand me, that would be sad..

Thus to make everything simple for him is my goal

I thoroughly enjoy this reversal of role

**

Once I had viewed complexity as a virtue

Now I profess simplicity for me and you…

To cross every T and dot every I

Is my goal for each day, and I try

My best to leave that pesky inbox

Of my work tasks empty, that’s my detox

For each day- so that when I leave

My workplace, I am able to cleave

My life into two separate domains-

Work and home- never shall meet the twain

There is something cathartic, I find

Something that energizes my mind

When I see an empty inbox before me

Completing work on time simply sets me free

*

If I leave tasks pending for the next day

I find that the baggage tends to stay

With me even at home, robbing me

Of mindful moments I can spend with my family

I know the question arises here

Do I stay late at work to adhere

To my desire of achieving completion each day

Yes, I do sometimes, yet I must say

In the grand scheme of things I save time

Because I work when my productivity is prime

*

I have come a step closer to achieve

The elusive work-life balance, I believe!

During the COVID-19 pandemic, most hospitals have been forced to adopt a no-visitation policy for patients to mitigate spread. Additionally, to reduce exposure to staff and to preserve PPE, many healthcare workers are also forced to reduce/limit time spent in patient rooms. Many COVID patients are struggling alone in their rooms. This poem is written from the perspective of a physician who witnesses a patient struggling to breathe, alone in his room.

I am here before you, under layers

I know to you it is not fair

To have to strain to understand what I have to say

When you are straining hard to breathe anyway

I know the non-rebreather mask and the oxygen at high flow

Make it impossible to communicate, and so

I am literally trying to scream beneath my mask and face shield

You don’t understand a word I say, I believe

Anxious, afraid, isolated and struggling to get a breath adequate

You are in an impossibly vulnerable state

Your loved ones you can barely see

On FaceTime, amid all this gadgetry

Besides, you don’t want to see them upset

At how you struggle with every breath…

I started out planning to spend as few minutes as I could

In your room, to decrease my exposure as I should

I can still make good clinical decisions if I prioritize

Spending less time in a COVID room with virus aerosolized

Reducing my exposure, but on a human level it would be

To leave a patient in discomfort, a travesty

So still under full PPE, I take a step closer to you

Hold your hand, try my best to listen too

To your concerns, articulated between anxious breaths

I try to comfort you, your anxiety I try to whet

When you nod in comprehension, believe me it’s true

I feel a sense of accomplishment too..

I leave your room hoping the time I spent

Would be worth every extra second

This pandemic has taken so much away

We have to find solace in something every day

I was going about dissatisfied with myself. I must say

At leaving patients alone, in distress every day

The simple act of touching my patient and spending minutes few

Hopefully helped him, made me feel better too

When I reflect on what the pandemic has done

One of the worst things seems to be the isolation

To be alone when you are sick, afraid, in an environment unfamiliar

Is a torture inflicted by this pandemic severe

Even if it is under layers of protective gear

If a little proximity can allay my patient’s fear

I am willing to do it, setting my fear aside

At least I would know that I tried..

Not that the beginning of the year follows a pattern

Even when we for new beginnings yearn

But this year has started on notes so grim

Statistics revealing hospitals full to the brim

Human suffering raging at levels unprecedented

In so many ways has COVID upended

The fabric of normal lives worldwide–

As we wait for something (?vaccination) to turn the tide

The usual New Year resolutions this January first we see few

We know now the best laid plans can go askew

Normally with high hopes we start each year

But in 2021 one thing seems clear

Our expectations are minimal to none, we start

The year from rock bottom- so in my heart

I believe that things can only get better now

I pray for salvation, and with some trepidation allow

Hope to enter my mind and dispel fear

There is nothing else I want from life this year…

I hear this on a routine basis in treating patients with chronic illnesses- “Doc, I have good days and bad days.” This post celebrates all those people bearing the burden of chronic illnesses who live each day choosing happiness and gratitude.

I recall clearly the day the diagnosis was made

That clear memory can never fade

It was a divisive event, of the kind binary

That divides into before and after your life trajectory

Being diagnosed with a chronic illness at first appeared

A realization of my worst fears

It felt like a life sentence, I won’t lie

Like my wings were clipped while soaring high

After the initial shock there were some relief

For months, unexplained symptoms had given me grief

Now my illness had a name and I could start

The process of healing, in my body, mind and heart..

**

You might think I’m deliberately trying to be

Positive in my outlook, show that I am happy

When I say that the illness has been a blessing in disguise

While aging my body, it has also made me wise

You know, with a chronic illness you wake up each day

Not knowing the curveballs that might come your way

Good days and bad days there always are

So you keep your expectations subpar

Reminding you to treat yourself with kindness

On days that are bad, take the opportunity to rest

While good days are to be celebrated

By accomplishing tasks and being elated

At the high energy levels that endorphins release

Knowing they wouldn’t last, though time you’d rather freeze

**

And when you see-saw between pain and its absence

You tend to view the world through a different lens

You cultivate gratitude- for things could be worse

If not a blessing, it’s not really a curse

Because what does not kill you, actually

Makes you stronger- I wholeheartedly agree

When perspective shifts and expectations are lowered

Happiness and contentment result, take my word..

Something just feels so right this week

Rays of hope have brightened the landscape bleak

After months of despair clouding the sky

Silver linings are here, and I cannot lie

That for the first time in many months now

Fear seems to be fading- I can finally allow

Hope to fill my heart as I display with pride

The vaccine shot that shows mankind’s stride

In taking back control from the virus that had brought

Misery to all of us, in ways we had not thought

Now human ingenuity and science have prevailed

Our ability to conquer every war has been unveiled

It is time to reclaim our lives, our freedom

Audaciously I claim the pandemic we shall soon overcome..