Passion…unbridled

“Twas a day seventy years ago

Mankind suffered a deadly blow

When driven by the war’s fervor

In order to make the enemy surrender

Science was twisted to serve human greed

Of domination, to satisfy the victor’s need

Bearing the innocuous name “Little Boy”

An atomic bomb was dropped, killing all joy

In the city of Hiroshima, with an explosion loud

Left imprints for posterity, the mushroom cloud

Because greed does not limits seem to know

Three days later, was delivered another blow-

The “Fat Man” charred Nagasaki in an instant

Stunned, the world watched in sombre amazement

Since then, the destructive potential of nuclear power

Has made the mighty tremble, made nations cower

Millions destroyed slowly with DNA mutations

Cancers, birth defects,  life of frustration…

The enemy surrendered just as expected

The entire world though, did not stay unaffected

Spawned an era of mistrust, of constant fear

Decades of  hostility among nations started from here.

The cold war it spawned for millions to remember

The “Arms Race” began, no one stopped to consider

The consequences, the responsibility to mankind

Each country was driven by fear that made them blind

**

The world has now seen unparalleled destruction

Never again should this happen from unbridled ambition…

Hiroshima and Nagasaki have left in their tragedy

For all of mankind, an immortal legacy.

Image source:http://www.nydailynews.com/news/atomic-bombing-hiroshima-nagasaki-69-years-gallery-1.1892958

Learning from my growing child

Whose simple logic makes me smile

And lose myself in reflective reverie

If only things could as simple be..

If my thinking could be that concrete

Maybe conflicts my mind could beat

Come to black or white conclusions

Avoid areas grey that cause confusion..

If like my child I could sometimes be

Maybe I could imbibe things as easily

Not lose a childish sense of wonder

Not be afraid of making a blunder

Get excited by objects inane

Find happiness in things mundane

Not be weighed down by irrational fear

Of being judged or rejected by peers

With my child I am trying to learn

How to my childhood I can return

Discover in every moment pleasure

Make each moment something to treasure.

I will confess that I love adornment

With make-up, jewelry, such shenanigans

That does not mean you can pass judgment

On me, or equate me with mute mannequins-

I am professional to my very core

I’ll come early to work dressed to the nines

Much as the “girly” objects I adore

I take pride in this profession of mine

My lipstick-smeared lips are perfectly capable

Of spewing arguments considered intellectual

My dossier is of thickness considerable

It will render the smirk on your face ineffectual

You shall see me raise a perfectly arched eyebrow

When your performance falls short of  expectation

These kohl-smeared, mascara’ed eyes will never allow

Any unprofessional conduct to escape observation

My sparkling diamonds attest to the fact that I can

Pamper myself with luxuries I can afford

In a male-dominated arena, I don’t have to be a man

Dressed like a diva, like a lioness I’ve roared!

Photograph: From “The Art of the Brick”- lego art exhibition at Franklin Institute, Philadelphia

This one is only for my Indian friends who are mourning the loss of an extraordinary human being and the former President of India. 

A man of infinite capability

Scientist extraordinaire

His aspirational ability

Inspiring us everywhere

His dream in conception singular

Of raising India to heights unknown,

And making her the “knowledge superpower”,

An action path he had shown..

Hermit-like living in the personal domain

And lofty ambitions for the nation

He will in our collective conscience remain

For being the brightest inspiration.

From humble beginnings he rose

To occupy the highest position

Despite his power, he still chose

His country over personal ambition.

Ignited the spirits and minds

Of countless directionless youth

He was truly one of his kind

That is the immutable truth..

He spent his life serving the nation

His death was not an exception

He was in the midst of an oration

When death snatched him by deception..

I keep writing about being different, being an iconoclast on this blog, since that is what I want to be. However, I realize that this may not be for everyone, so here I present the opposite point of view:

Why should I try to stand apart

And deal with the stress of being unique?

Why do I need to be considered smart

By way of how I do things or speak?

From the common path I can deviate

And alone I can carve my own way

I may get attention (?notoriety) immediate

Maybe there are others whose minds I can sway..

**

The world, sadly, operates in such a way

That nothing ever comes to you for free

When you decide to be different, that day

You give up all peace of your mind instantly..

**

The accumulated stress of expectation,

Of fear of failure, of abject loneliness,

The constant insecurity can lead to frustration

And sabotage the joy that should stem from success.

**

Why, then, can I not merge with the crowd

Find safety in numbers, a conformist be

My life’s achievements may not make me proud

But I will have friends that identify with me.

Maybe the thorny path of ambition

Is not something that I am cut out for

Blending in with others gives me satisfaction

Mediocrity appeals to me, I shall stay obscure.