Passion…unbridled

I have played dumb, acted clueless, pretended to be unsure

Despite knowing exactly what was going on, but I shall do so no more..

*

I am well-informed and fairly smart, I know

But I often refrain from letting my capabilities show

So that some fragile egos are not bruised

I become an accomplice in keeping up the ruse

That some men in important positions are the best

And their dominance cannot be questioned or put to test

Especially when it comes to women, they must always appear

To be in command- losing face before women is their greatest fear

*

Societal conditioning had misguided me to believe

That it was completely acceptable to achieve

Anything as long as I did understand

That men needed to have an upper hand

*

I have now accumulated enough experience to know

That I do not need to be deferential to anyone’s ego

Be it a man or a woman, while I should give respect where it is due

Shrinking myself to inflate someone’s self-worth is not something I need to do

*

So the next time I know something, I shall not pretend

To be unaware or uncertain, I shall intend

To share my opinion without hesitation or fear

Neither weak nor meek I want to appear

I read that Cambridge dictionary

Has expanded its vocabulary

By around six thousand words, its latest inclusions

Have created in my mind some confusion-

Slang words common on social media have found

A place in a respectable dictionary, it sounds

A sort of travesty to me- words like “delulu”, “inspo” and “skibidi”

Are too casual to be included in a reputable dictionary..

*

I know neologism is a facet of lexical innovation

Languages evolve through the creation

Of new words and phrases that describe

The zeitgeist of the times, the prevailing vibes

But some words used on the internet sound

As if real words have just been twisted around

And mangled such that the younger generations

Can exclude older generations from their conversations

*

I am sure brilliant minds did debate before

Adding these words to the lexicon, therefore

I would be better off withholding my opinion here

And acknowledging that since these words now appear

In a dictionary, I can look up the definitions when I need

So I do not embarrass myself before Gen Z indeed

I would dabble in art on lazy weekends

In indulging my interest, never did I intend

To make art more seriously, nor did I possess

The audacity to consider myself an artist, I confess

That I was just trying to find a hobby that would make me

Step away from devices, keep me from scrolling mindlessly

*

As time went by, I was encouraged to create

Artwork that was a bit more intricate

The variety of art supplies that I needed grew

As I kept experimenting with media new

*

I had been creating art for a while but had not

Designated a specific place, I had never thought

That I needed a “studio” space to indulge my creativity

The kitchen table and a closet to store supplies were good enough for me

*

Having close women friends is a blessing in ways more than one

But my friends who have encouraged me in my endeavors from day one

Made me realize the need for a separate place for my art

And then helped me carve out a space in my home-from the bottom of my heart

I thank them for helping me find something I did not know I needed

I am so grateful that their sage advice I heeded

*

Now I retreat to my private space when I am inspired

My art supplies are right there, I can spread them out as desired

I am happy to say that marked improvement my artwork has seen

I dedicate it to my friends whose encouragement a constant has been

Of all the ways I use to self-soothe when stressed

Making unnecessary purchases is the one that needs to be addressed

*

There are times when my morale runs low

Or I am exhausted from constantly being on the go

Books and podcasts fail to keep me engaged

In trying to write I keep staring at a blank page

I am alone with my devices, scrolling aimlessly

Advertisements for clothing and accessories keep luring me

In to making a purchase I definitely do not require

And I proceed to buy stuff not out of desire

But out of boredom, and a misguided sense

That I deserve something nice as a reward for my workload intense

*

In terms of material objects I already have more than enough

And when I keep adding to my stash of unnecessary stuff

I assume ownership and therefore the responsibility

To manage a large and disorganized inventory

And as I have lamented, for time I’m already hard-pressed

Having more stuff to take care of just adds to my stress

*

When a new object comes into my possession

It makes me happy momentarily, then goes into recession

At the back of closets and other storage spaces in my dwelling

And the amount of useless stuff in my home keeps swelling

*

There are enough clothes currently on this planet to dress

The population for six generations-and I confess

This statistic is profoundly sobering to me

My habitual consumption makes me feel guilty

*

Before I go further, let me acknowledge

The unassailable fact that I am incredibly privileged

To be able to buy what I want without finances being a consideration

And that is why at some level I have an obligation

To consider the carbon footprint of this unfortunate habit of mine

And keep the negative impact of conspicuous consumption in my mind

I am among those with a strong conviction

That storytelling can change the world, by incorporating facts into fiction

When a captivating story is narrated to a receptive audience

It can have profound and lasting influence..

*

Let stories belonging to far-flung lands

Get wider platforms so more people understand

The unique challenges that their inhabitants face

Learn how stories are tied to the geopolitics of each place

*

Hearing stories from people of diverse backgrounds has been shown to build

Empathy in all of us, in the age of AI a much needed skill

No voice should be suppressed, no story prevented from being narrated

Through books, art, theater, every story should have a chance to be celebrated

*

From the epic of Gilgamesh to contemporary fiction

Where would we be without our inherent predilection

To narrate stories- therefore we must continue

To tell them in every genre, flavor and hue

We walk outside, listening to podcasts

Without looking at our phones, we do not last

Longer than a few minutes in a waiting room

Boredom like a threatening cloud looms

Any time we are left alone with our thoughts

We want to fill each time gap at all costs

*

We fill our days with tasks, scrolls and distraction

With our devices we have near constant interaction

Thus no mental pause we allow ourselves to get

In our daily lives we leave no space to hit reset

There is no time to think, reflect or clarity gain

Because we view boredom with such disdain

*

We need to relearn to be comfortable

With getting bored, learn to be able

To sit with our thoughts, without feeling the urge

To fill each minute, to constantly look for an adrenaline surge

*

As a parting thought, William Henry Davies I quote

(Because I’ve finally understood these lines learnt by rote)

What is this life if full of care

We have no time to stand and stare

To the world a scripted facade you present

What people see is the face that represents

The societal expectations that you’ve imbibed

Your authentic self you cleverly hide

You modulate your tone, you show

The right amount of vulnerability, you know

Which stories should be told and how

You curate your demeanor to allow

People to accept you in their fold

You shape yourself in a performative mold

*

There is wisdom in donning that mask

Navigating complex social landscapes is no easy task

The mask you have worn is protective gear

But your true self lies beneath that veneer

It longs to be visible, to breathe freely

If you removed your mask, what would you see?

*

Reclaim that authentic self for you

Give the world a glimpse of the real, vulnerable you

Let go of performance, and embrace

The power of your unvarnished face

I’ve always had a lot to say

But over time I have moved away

From expressing my unfiltered opinions without care

Because I cannot be subtle, I am aware

That my opinions come across as being too strong

They tend to rub people in ways that are wrong

In the contemporary divided society the less I say

The better it may be for my wellbeing anyway

*

Here’s the dilemma- in limiting my expression

I’ve also stopped forming my own impression

Of various issues that I observe around me

In other words, I have stopped thinking independently..

*

Therefore I must express myself, but caution exercise

If I lost my voice, I would lose my ability to analyze

I would lose my ability to think independently

And that is not someone I want to be

There are many problems that need to be fixed

There are wasteful practices that need to be nixed

There are flawed processes needing correction

There are many areas of imperfection

That I can point out, I can propose

Solutions to improve all those..

*

But if I try to get my point across

I sound like I’m complaining, I am at a loss

Regarding how to reframe my constructive criticism such

That it does not sound like criticism very much

I just want to improve the workflow without

Pointing fingers at anyone or singling them out

More often than not, someone gets offended anyway

By taking as a personal affront what I have to say

*

If I am too cautious in my word choice

My point gets diluted, and my voice

Gets drowned out by other, louder ones

What I want to accomplish never gets done

*

The end result is that I do not challenge the status quo

I vent my frustration, then learn to go with the flow

Once in a while I get an opportunity rare

To express my opinion and publicly share

What I want to change, why, and how

I seize upon these opportunities to allow

My (constructive) suggestions to be heard

Without trying to sugarcoat my words

I’d love to think that age has had no effect on my mind

But every day, unmistakable signs of aging I find…

*

One of the most distressing signs of aging for me

Is my dwindling patience and increasing inability

To read long books-despite being a reader prolific

To shorter, up to 300 pages long books I now try to stick

In the past I used to dive without hesitation

Into thousand-page long books, but now I am filled with trepidation

Each time I encounter a thick, wordy book

For larger print and thinner spines I now look

*

Wistfully I remember the days when “War and Peace” seemed

Appropriately long for a transcontinental trip, I would have deemed

Anything shorter inadequate for a journey that was long

I was a fast reader, my ability to pay attention was strong

These days I feel accomplished if I can focus my attention

On a book beyond half an hour, despite my best intentions

*

One of the most anticipated books of this year

I have selected from the library, but I fear

At 400 pages in fine print, it would be

Challenging to read cover to cover for me..

But having penned this verse, the least I can do

Is read a book similar in length to those I used to

Conventional norms have told me to constantly hurry

The concept is drilled down so deep in me that I worry

About taking more time than needed, and being left behind

The world is a never-ending race in my mind

*

The culture of hurry was wearing me out

I needed to slow down, without a doubt

But since throughout my life I had hustled

Slowing down required flexing new muscles..

*

Serendipitously I discovered an interest in art

And that was for slowing down a great start

Art cannot be created in a hurry, I realized

When I slowed down to observe and create, to my surprise

The urge to rush through completely went away

I lost track of time, immersed in art that day

*

The world tells you to hurry, art tells you to slow down

Art is the antithesis of hustle culture, I’ve found

Age is just a number, this statement has gained popularity

But the older I get, the fuzzier that number gets for me

*

During periods of rest and relaxation

While indulging in activities of recreation

I feel younger by ten or fifteen years

But that illusion immediately disappears

When I get back to the daily grind

When joint pains and diminishing energy levels remind

Me that I am progressing quite fast

Towards old age, the semblance of youth cannot last

Then there are days when my profession

Necessitates some degree of sleep deprivation

When I have not had a good night’s sleep

A positive outlook about my age is hard to keep

I feel older by two decades or more

My mental faculties feel sluggish, my muscles feels sore

*

The age that I perceive is a number with variation wide

I feel young at heart, yet I am afraid deep inside

That I may not have enough years left to realize

All the dreams that I had visualized