Passion…unbridled

We are taught to strive for balance elusive

Leading a balanced life seems to be the right way to live..

Let me, for a moment, present the opposite point of view

Balance is beautiful, but imbalance is necessary to

Keep the universe in motion because a universe in balance perfect

Would be static, become stagnant, I suspect..

If we humans lived our lives in perfect synchrony

With our surroundings, we would languish in ennui

There would be no motivation, no need to strive

For change, for excellence in our lives..

*

Like everything else, moderation is the key

Tip the scales some, there should be some entropy!

Wish I could channel my hidden diva in such a way

That my inner beauty would shine every day

And all the external processes of beautification

Would be rendered unnecessary, with resultant simplification

Of my life, oh what a joy it would be

To be able to get some time free

To spend with my family, or perhaps alone

Maybe another skill I could try to hone..

*

Many times I have tried, in feigned confidence

To go without make-up, get over the pretense

Of dyeing my hair that is greying fast

But ageism is deep-rooted, youthful looks must last

Sadly, even professionally accomplished women are expected

To be well-groomed and impeccably dressed to be respected

Therefore one look at other women and I lose my resolve

To appear in public without grooming in a way that involves

Spending precious time and money to look presentable

That deep-seated insecurity rears its head in a way regrettable

**

Thus lacking courage to go ungroomed I spend

Precious hours in a salon, contrary to what I intend…

Quiet and dignified

Speaking volumes

Without making a sound

Never conspicuous

Never outrageous

Yet with impact profound

Its presence obvious

In the indifference

In understated confidence

In self-assuredness

In expression of views

Genuine, or under pretense

Of concern for everyone

With incomplete understanding

Secure in the knowledge

That they are exempt

From the burden of comprehension-

This, stated sotto voce, is privilege

You think of life’s momentous moments

The ones in the limelight, the ones that steal the show

They make a loud noise, garner attention

But they are not the moments when you grow

Personally- understanding the deeper meaning of life

Growth in personal and spiritual spheres

Occurs during ordinary moments from day to day

When wisdom is whispered in your ears

No one else knows, there is nothing to proclaim

Ostensibly your path has not deviated at all

Outwardly everything appears the same

Yet you know something has changed, albeit small

You are a shade better in the way you operate

One step closer to being who you want to be

A better version of yourself than you were before

May be closer to fulfilling your ultimate destiny..

Writing is rewriting

Of stories lived

Emotions experienced

Making tangible

nebulous thoughts

Stringing together

words and phrases

Scattered in the mind

Into sentences on paper

*

Writing is rewriting

Reviewing, revising

Scratching off lines

Tearing off pages

Deleting documents

Absorbing the first draft

Distilling core elements

Repurposing words

Reframing sentences

Tweaking ideas

Morphing the narrative

*

Writing is rewriting

Each page reflecting

Pages of content

Rough, messy drafts

Chaotic paragraphs

The embers of which

Light up the new fire

Burning bright in coherence

Coalescing, to make sense

Revised, refurbished

The final presentation

Ready, the book written

The first draft forgotten…

It was so easy to say,

“This is not my job” that day

The client needed assistance, it was clear

But her need was outside the sphere

Of my work duties, I would not be looked at unfavorably

For not providing requisite assistance, you see…

**

I prepared to conclude the meeting, expressing regret

I stopped to look at her face, and I shall never forget

The juxtaposition of sadness and self-respect that was revealed

On her countenance, she had solemnly appealed

Before me her case, without being angry or shedding copious tears

Something about her poise unsettled me, after all these years

I still remember how her demeanor made me feel

I had to find a way to help her, it was an epiphany revealed

**

Where there is a will, there is a way

That is what the wise always say

To find a solution, once I made up my mind

The path became clearer, the purpose well-defined

It turned out to be an issue larger in magnitude

Than I had thought during that interlude

I got drawn into an issue that somehow turned out

To be eerily close to my heart, no doubt

This was my fate, how it was meant to be

I was destined to drift into this uncharted territory

**

I am an ordinary person and never thought I could inspire

A whole movement, but that was how fate conspired

She and I joined hands to fight the establishment

That had created her original predicament

Our efforts succeeded beyond our imagination

As more women joined us we became an organization

One thing led to another, we gathered enough momentum

To change laws, transform lives, we have become

A women-centric force to reckon with today

I thank the powers above that she crossed my way…

How could I forgive, I would say

Those who harmed me that day

They were people who robbed me

Of my life as it was meant to be..

I had nightmares, I could not sleep

The wounds from that insult did run deep…

Angry I remained, I could not move on

I wanted retribution for the wrong

That had been inflicted on me

So I just wallowed in self pity..

**

As time passed, our paths never collided

Their lives and mine never coincided

I held on to anger, in my obduracy

Unable to convince myself it was a fallacy

I don’t know if my anger affected their lives at all

But on my life, my anger was taking a heavy toll

**

That I could forgive, never occurred to me

Until I chanced upon “book therapy”

As I read spellbound about an Auschwitz survivor

I realized forgiving was doing myself a favor…

I worked hard to let go and grant forgiveness

Finally I closed the chapter on my emotional distress.

*

I understand it is hard to forgive

But holding a grudge is hardly conducive

To living a life of contentment

Where unresolved anger is the driving sentiment..

I do not feel pretty, but I yearn to somehow be

At least in pictures, the epitome of classic beauty

I twist and turn, make poses that I believe

Would make me be more attractive perceived

I smile unnaturally, tilt my head or stand

With my arm on my waist, as I understand

That way of posing makes me look much slimmer

I try to ensure that light on my best features glimmers

Now the desired effect is hard to obtain

When taking pictures during travel, it is a pain

To try to look attractive after walking in humid heat

Yet the absolute necessity of looking good is hard to beat

It is horrifying for people on social media to see

Me at my unattractive worst, when tagged by others especially

**

Let me stop here and see which photographs from recent days

Are worthy of showcasing on social media to garner praise…

Be consistent, I had heard- because consistency

Leads to results, it is the key

That unlocks the secrets of success

I dismissed that advice as idealistic jargon, I confess

The truth is consistency was difficult for me

To sustain, I was constantly seduced by novelty

Consistency implied something predictable and repetitive

To living an interesting life, predictability was not conducive..

So I started projects, abandoned them along the way

With a plate full of activities and travel, my schedule varied from day to day

I dreamt about achieving my objectives without

Putting in a consistent effort, no doubt

**

I’m not exaggerating when I say

The pandemic brought more structure to my day

With avenues for new experiences seriously diminished

To a more consistent schedule I had to switch

What’s more, I never even gave it a thought

Showed up day after day for myself, and this brought

Results that I had not even anticipated

Appeared before me unexpectedly- I was elated

Those few extra pounds that appeared fixtures permanent

Had melted away, because my workout regimen was consistent

The books I lamented I had no time to read

Adorned my bookshelves during this time indeed..

In many other areas positive results I found

Because I was being consistent all around..

**

These days I show up for myself every day

Consistency gets rewarded along the way

Between what we want and what we need

The contrast has never been clearer indeed

The pandemic and its aftermath have unveiled

How we have been overtaken by greed, how we have failed

To remember that human needs are but few

Most “needs” are just wants crying “me too”..

**

I for one, had never thought I would find

My ambition and possessions misaligned

Now I see my ambition and efforts were (mis)directed

At acquiring more objects- a practice I have now rejected

In favor of assets rather intangible

I focus on growth in spheres philosophical

My mind’s horizons I want to expand

More of the universe I want to understand

My soul should take deeper dives to explore

The abstract universe, there is so much more

To acquire except objects materialistic

I aim to achieve Nirvana as a mystic…

There’s the rhythm of day and night

That my body wants to follow, but with all my might

I resist the urge to synchronize

I sleep at midnight, late in the morning I rise…

There’s the monthly rhythm of the ebb and flow

Of the lining of my womb, that I hate to follow

Tools I have readily available to manipulate

My body, a busy schedule I have to orchestrate

There’s the rhythm of the seasons but who cares

About seasonal food-everything is available everywhere

Throughout the year, to have to compromise

On my choices based on season appears unwise..

There’s the rhythm of years I choose to ignore

As much as I can, aging is a topic sore

Why should I not look younger than my years

When I can display a youthful veneer?

**

Caught in the web of a life that ignored day after day

All natural rhythms, I realized I had fallen prey

To headaches, gastric upset and other such afflictions

Euphemistically termed as stress-related conditions

Expensive treatments, new-fangled stress-busters

All were quite useless, finally motivation I mustered

To cultivate habits that were with natural rhythms aligned

Without exaggeration, I can tell you that my body and mind

Felt better in ways more than one

A life more balanced for me had begun..

Millions of people in my motherland India and around the world are grieving at this time. This poem is an attempt to give a voice to those who are putting up a brave front..

I hope you don’t ask me how I am doing these days

For if you do, you might set a fire ablaze

I look composed but every fiber of my being right now

Is stretched to the breaking point, I don’t know how

Much longer I can hold it together though

One word of concern, and tears would flow

Ask me my well-being, but know before you do

The floodgates might open, drowning me too

The sorrow, the anxiety, the tremendous fear around

I shove deep down repeatedly, silence their sounds

Yet the slightest twinge of emotion can sway

My forced stoicism, simply wash it away..

When you ask about my well-being, I shall do so too

I don’t know what emotions that might evoke for you…

Maybe you are as broken as I am inside

Maybe behind a masked facade you too hide..

When losses are mounting, perhaps we shall find

In shared grief, some succor for our minds..