Passion…unbridled

When I was young I did think

That freedom was, of growing up a part

It took forever for the idea to sink

That the true sense of freedom lay in the heart…

As a child I envied grown-ups who could

Go anywhere without permission

I had decided that as an adult I would

Do nothing that was not of my volition.

In the naivete of youth I did not realize

Freedom comes with clauses too many

Freedom always exacts its price

Down to every last cent and penny.

Freedom carries with it the baggage

Of responsibility with it always

They come as an all-inclusive package

These two can never part ways..

The burden of responsibility may

Tie you down in shackles again

Therefore at the end of the day

The exhilaration of freedom goes down the drain!

**

The true essence of freedom lies inside 

It is a state for ourselves to discover

By losing attachment to everything outside

We achieve our goal of freedom inner. 

All my life I’d tried in vain

To metamorphose into the ideal

Woman as I’d seen again and again

Described in books or captured on reel

Right off the bat had I realized

Some crucial features I did not possess

I lacked the requisite height or the prized

Luxurious hair, with which God did not bless

So I tried to work with what I was given

Tried to slim down to the ideal size

But the ideal figure that I could envision

Would never be mine, woefully did I realize

I tried my best to behave in a manner

Befitting a female member of my society

Trying to create an aura of subtle glamor

Was a concept so foreign, it provoked some anxiety…

**

I was unhappy with myself, felt defeated

I could never be the ideal woman I epitomized

When I tried to emulate her, my soul felt cheated

That ideal must be wrong for me, I finally surmised

**

Yes, I could be quite loud and opinionated

My manicure would be chipped off before it had dried

My hair would never stay in their place designated

My mascara would run over as if I had cried

Extra slabs of fat clung to me tenaciously

Glamor and I had no relation whatsoever

So I accepted that this was me, graciously

And shifted my focus to what I could do better.

**

Devoid of illusions I tried to explore 

My strengths that did not match that ideal

And to my surprise I found many more

Talents within me, things I could now feel

It took me some time to accept that I was

A nonconformist in more ways than one

And it was all right to be who I was, because

I was the best I could be, instead of a mere imitation!

Looking at my storage shelves one day

I saw things spilling out every which way

Clothes, accessories, books and journals-

Realized I was surrounded by disorder infernal

Too many objects, creating clutter and chaos

Things bought at random, reason “just because”

Acquired for pleasure, but causing irritation

Adding to my stress were my prized possessions….

**

Looking at the mayhem, on an impulse I decided

Acquiring stuff for pleasure was a goal short-sighted

I no longer owned my stuff, but my stuff now owned me

Fettered by possessions, I no longer felt I was free

I had to let go and downsize, of that I was certain

What did I love least-now that was hard to ascertain..

Tempted was I to hold back to objects sentimental

Letting go of my belongings was a task monumental

**

As more of a minimalistic lifestyle I embraced

More unnecessary clutter from my life I erased

Taking this concept another notch further

I stopped doing things non-essential altogether

Discovered the joy of a simple lifestyle

Making life meaningful and every moment worthwhile!

Happiness we pursue relentlessly

Hoping we will find it one day, finally

In an unexpected corner of the universe

This hidden corner must be a curse

Because the earth is round as we know

We can’t find a corner, though far we may go..

Like a mirage in the desert, these corners are

Figments of our imagination, that travel far

Corners are products of human design

In nature sharp corners you may not find

Light cannot around a corner bend

A corner is where a light ray finds its end

How can then the rays of happiness bright

Reach the corners to dispel the darkness of night

**

The message behind these rambling thoughts is actually

Happiness begins not from a corner, but centrally..

From the focal points of our lives, our hearts’ centers

Happiness springs, and dark corners enters. 

“It is good to have an end to journey toward; but it is the journey that matters, in the end.”
― Ernest HemingwaySix billion souls on this planet each day

With fresh hope set out on their way

Ostensibly to their places of work, their vocation

In reality, searching for the one destination

The fabled land of contentment profound

The land where perpetual happiness is found..

**

Six billion souls, many often tend to forget

At the end of life’s journey, all they would regret

Is not having enjoyed each moment of the process

Having spent their lives chasing evasive success

In trying to race towards their destination

With steely resolve and grim determination

They never stop to smell the roses on their way

Miss joie-de-vivre of their journey, day after day

**

Interwoven in the fabric of each life is the thread

Of happiness, which lies in the journey,instead

Of being parked at a specific unattainable location

Let’s enjoy this journey, not focus on the destination!

From my vantage point I can see

Throngs of people milling about

Usually they stop to look at me

Because I have that kind of clout

Some give me a mere passing glance

Others give me a long, hard stare

Some comment on my expression and stance

Some would love to touch me, but do not dare

I am used to being thoroughly scrutinized

Discussions on my attributes I hear

You would think by now I’d be desensitized

I already have a permanent sneer…

All sorts of opinions I have heard

Some exalted, some just ridiculous

Explanations abstract that sound absurd,

I am used to attention assiduous..

**

Like a performer on stage perpetually

I have been basking in public attention

I have immortalized my creator actually

Of his talent, I am a representation. 

Now that you are at the end of the poem, let me reveal the somewhat cryptic identity of the narrator- this poem is written from the point of view of a famous statue- I had “David” at Accademia in Florence, Italy in mind. He was created my Michelangelo in the 16th century.

Replica of “David” outside the Palazzo Vecchio, Florence, Italy

If I could ask for one wish to be granted

I would choose the gift of peaceful sleep

For in doing so, I would lose all unwanted

Demons hiding in my soul’s recesses deep..

If I could lay my head on the pillow each night

And close my eyes in blissful contentment

Forgive every unpleasant remark, every slight

Let ooze out of my pores all traces of resentment. 

Let sleep, the master seducer preside over me

And in to my marrow, inject some languor

Such that the evil around me I can no longer see

And I fall into a peaceful, dreamless stupor.

**

For sleep is the gift of a content mind

Meant exclusively for rejuvenation

To repair human beings, sleep was designed

It is the purest form of meditation..

It is the glory and good of Art, That Art remains the one way possible Of speaking truth, to mouths like mine at least.
-Robert Browning
Spoken words, expressions, actions can hide

Almost anything a person feels inside

But when an artist displays his art

It unveils the truth hidden in his heart

Truth can be monstrous, unpalatable

Scathing, searing, quite unbearable

Art is a varnish carefully applied, 

Skilfully, the ugliness of truth it can hide

Presenting the truth ornamentalized

Art disguises truth, I have realized

If you look deep into an artistic creation

A painting, a sculpture, a theatrical presentation

You can get a glimpse into the creator’s mind

A bitter truth of life you will likely find..

Subtly presented, aesthetically pleasing

Nonetheless, for recognition pleading..

Art is therefore a necessary invention

From the naked truth to provide us protection!