Passion…unbridled

For years I looked for a yardstick around

To measure my worth against, certain that once found

Steps I could take to bring myself higher

Up to the standards to which I did aspire

As a woman I was expected to be

Invested in my outer beauty

Growing up steeped in the collective conscious

Of a developing nation full of folks ambitious

I had to be appropriately, intellectually bent

To guarantee against competition my ascent

I had to choose a vocation that was respected

I had to excel at my work, that was expected

As an Indian woman I had to uphold tradition

Even if I was carried far by my ambition

I was supposed to lead a lifestyle cautiously comfortable

Never indulge in actions that could become regrettable

**

I thought I was measuring up quite all right

I groomed myself well, appeared cheerful and bright

Found my vocation in being a physician

Checked off the box of a suitable profession

Settled in the safe monotony of middle class living

I did not take risks, took decisions only after giving

To every proposed idea of action deliberate thought

I had a safety net, though exciting my life was not

Moved across continents but did not forget

My traditions, my culture, they held my respect

**

I was probably near perfect by every measure

That I could think of, yet I felt no pleasure-

I an not the way I look or the size I wear

Judging my worth by my profession is also unfair

The label of a perfect Indian woman does not define me

I might fit those molds but God did not design me

To fit into categories completely arbitrary

Meant to distract from the whole that is me

I don’t need labels to project my worth anyway

I exist, I’m alive, I can think, love and work today

And that is sufficient for me to say

I am worth it because I just am, today!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In this world where everyone tries to be perfect

One certain way to gather universal respect

Seems to be to spend long hours at work

Leave the office early, and even if you don’t shirk

Any responsibility, you would still be perceived

As irresponsible and lazy, since it’s widely believed

Staying late is tantamount to being industrious

It portrays the image of a career illustrious

Family comes second, work scores higher

Is the mantra if higher goals you aspire

The image of a consummate professional

Is that of a steady worker who stays unruffled

By any predicament, stress or upheaval

Faced by him in the realm personal

So most of us try to put up a front brave

Of valuable things, livelihood is the first thing to save..

Thus forced workaholics do we become

Work then steadily becomes burdensome.

**

We might invest ourselves in our vocation

But our value at work has a date of expiration

So all walls crumble when work is no longer present

And neglected loved ones have made themselves absent

All those hours spent toiling lose their importance

With the sad realization that there is nothing left of substance..

**

So I urge you to take stock at present

If towards workaholism you might be bent

Remember your family and friends while they are

Still close to you, don’t let them go far!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We have been taught from childhood days

That the early bird catches the worm always

So faced with an assignment we try to

Get cracking on it right away, without ado

We try to finish it and think no further

Once the task is completed we don’t have to bother

Success comes to those who do not procrastinate

I beg to differ, let me my point of view state

I think there is merit in procrastinating

Novel ideas emerge when you spend some time waiting

Instead of rushing to complete an assignment

Giving you time to add to your project refinement

You chew on an idea even though you might not

Have anything concrete except your thoughts

When the deadline approaches and you are

Spurred into action, those thoughts would carry you far

The most inspiring speeches delivered by great men

Included ideas added at the very last moment..

Of course completion is essential, otherwise

Procrastination would be highly unwise

To sum up, all it is that I am trying to suggest-

At times procrastination might bring out the best!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My mind often wanders restlessly

Tangled thoughts stretch endlessly

While I find it difficult to define

What actually rankles this soul of mine-

Whatever I do never seems enough

I feel impoverished in the midst of stuff

I long to journey into lands distant

Challenge everything to which society is resistant

Create something beautiful and exquisite

Carve an inner shrine that I would like to visit-

Don’t know if fulfilment of these desires

Would be sufficient to douse out the fires

That burn within me, fueled by restlessness

Accounting for my omnipresent sleeplessness

**

I doubted the thirst of my soul would be quenched

So towards meditation my interests I bent

I learnt to focus on the moment present

Out of the window all restlessness went

 

I felt calmer from within instantly

As I delved deeper into meditation hesitantly..

**

Meditation helped still the chatter in my mind

Grateful I am that this treasure I did find

Clamoring for more in my life, I had felt restless

Calm and balanced, now I was satisfied with less..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

If I could go back in time and be an advisor

To my younger self, now that I am wiser

I know the first thing I would do

Is teach her that she is beautiful too

For this is how myself I now perceive

But it would be hard to make her believe

That the awkward adolescent who the mirror terrifies

Is a lovely young woman who should, in her own eyes,

Be as awesome and unique as she aspires to be –

Confidence in herself would be her best accessory

For her beauty, wit, intelligence or character

She needs no external validation, she has all these in her

I would tell her to face the world with her dazzling smile

In any adversity it would help her go the extra mile

I would tell her to stop paying undue attention

To others’ opinions, their criticism is but an extension

Of their insecurities, the demons that haunt them

For their opinions, neither she nor they are to blame

In the same vein I would remind her to

Restrain herself from being critical of others too

I wish I could show her, make her aware

About others’ lives, most people hardly ever care

 

**

Of course she might not like my advice and be indignant

At her age, life is confusing and peer pressure is significant

The wisdom that over years I have imbibed

I would like to distil and in a nutshell provide

To her so as to protect her from pain

Prevent her from going down the path of self-doubt again

 

 

It seems to me that nowadays

Most of us on most days

Deal with excess in many ways

Shuffling through a meaningless maze

Of stuff- material goods of wide variety,

Information on things affecting our society

Food and wine to challenge sobriety-

Excess everywhere-provoking anxiety..

**

While paradoxically, mostly everywhere

There is a shortage of time to spare, 

Despite all the goods, to be fair

There isn’t enough money to not care

**

So the race continues to acquire

More possessions we seem to require

We have a compulsive need to rise higher

In search of the happiness that we desire

**

The mountains of stuff that we accumulate

Adding more constantly to our plate

As collateral damage tend to inflate

Our stresses leading to an unhappy state.

**

In theory simple is the solution

Difficult, though, is its execution

Minimalism should be our resolution

It might be the beginning of a revolution

To cut down excess from our lives forever

And indulge in little things that give us pleasure..

**

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

You contradict everything I say

You use logic to demonstrate your way

Where I come from, you may not know

I have no tangible evidence to show

But my gut instinct guides me always

My intuition with me always stays

So I can sense when things are not right

This uncanny ability prepares me for fight or flight

The undercurrent that goes unnoticed by you

I feel in my bones, it gives me a clue

Of the direction in which events are headed

This gift of the sixth sense is in all women embedded

I can picture your derisive grin as you hear

Me tell you about my not so obvious fear

Trust me, this ability is a gift of evolution

For mothers to be able to protect their children

For women to ward off unwanted attention

We are strengthened by the power of intuition

So while I admire your partiality to evidence

Listen to my concerns based on my sixth sense

In all walks of life if we can combine

Your practical approach with instinct of mine

We can achieve much greater success

In all walks of life, get more for less.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Memories are the architecture of our identity- Unknown

Memories seared on the inside of my brain

Recalled like a dormant pain, time and again

Layered with the dust of distorted perception

They play tricks on my mind, in clever deception

Make me reminisce over past experiences

In a new light, rekindle my quiescent senses

Embellished enough to construct stories new

My memories acquire a much brighter hue

Making me pine for days that have passed

If only those halcyon days could last!

**

Thus the dusty train ride that had been

Interminably long, now does not seem

Anything but a thrilling adventure

On a similar trip I do long to venture

Or cycling to school I fondly remember-

It must be fun, every month through December

It is what I think, though reality differed

Cycling daily to school was never what I preferred.

And all the people surrounding me those days

Are like angels in my memories who went different ways

I could not have liked each one, I am certain

This angelic aura given by my memories is inadvertent..

**

I gave these instances to exemplify

How memory, the trickster, can amplify

All positives, while negatives are suppressed

This manipulation though is the best

To keep the burdens of the past at bay

And keep the path of future clear, I pray.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He was a planner, what he wanted he knew

He would never venture into something new

Without planning for every predictable consequence

Every outcome was preceded by events in a sequence

That could be logically predicted, he would say

He could not tell you when he last had an unplanned day

Be it work, play, travel- his planning was impeccable

His family and friends considered him The Dependable

He had charted his life’s course and was cruising

Along the path carved out, every step of his choosing.

**

You might think he was perfection personified

But there was something below the surface, unidentified

Underlying the meticulous planner lay a man

Afraid to death of derailment of his plans

His life had to be concrete, something he could touch

Anything abstract or intangible frightened him much

Underneath the confident front he presented

He was insecure, and this made him discontented

**

But life has a habit of coming in the way

Of the best laid plans, any moment, any day

One moment can change one’s life forever

Shake a person such that he might not recover

A bomb dropped on his head one day

Diagnosis of cancer that took his breath away

All his plans fell down like a pack of cards

His heart and mind were pierced by a million shards

Not knowing whether he had time, if so, how much

The vanishing strands of control he tried to clutch

Treatment was possible, but no one could say

Whether it would work, they told him to pray

The fear of uncertainty he now faced, and realized

He had to conquer it, he could not stay paralyzed.

**

Learning to take one day at a time, he could eventually

Go through the daunting  prospect of chemotherapy

Not knowing where his journey would end

Every day was his last, he had to pretend

Admitting that planning was futile, he learnt to live

In the moment, love he learnt to give

 

His stars were aligned, and he achieved remission

On the cancer treatment, God had heard his petition

**

Once he had faced the fear of his plans going awry

He realized excessive planning was worthless, he was sorry

That he had underestimated the power of Nature

Which could instantaneously make a mockery of his future

He learnt to live in the present, without fear

This is how he continued to live year after year.