Passion…unbridled

If you’re successful, your story you can tell

If you write a book, millions of copies it would likely sell

You would appear for book signings, guest lectures and television shows

You would be approached for turning your book into films or television shows

If you have a rags to riches story or one that describes

How you overcame extraordinary adversity to thrive

People would read your book for inspiration

You would be able to capture all their admiration

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As an avid reader, innumerable memoirs of winners I have read

While I’ve been inspired by such books, I want to read instead

Books by people who never tasted success

Those who found a way to live in the midst of distress

Those who worked hard for a cause, and lost in the end

To learn more about their struggles is my intent

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But memoirs are written by people who have acquired fame

Publishers rarely publish stories from those with no names

So unless the story is fictionalized, I never see

Stories of those who tried and failed miserably..

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Perhaps deep in our hearts, we all want to hear

Fairy-tale endings, stories of success uplifting appear

I must be weird because I want to read

Something that is unconventional indeed

But winners already have a voice by virtue of their success

Those who have failed should also be able to express

What they did, how they felt and where they are going

The story of someone not successful is also worth knowing

The longer I work in healthcare, the more I am amazed

At the resilience of my patients who face

Adversities that insurmountable appear

Challenges that could leave one paralyzed with fear

To live productive lives with chronic illnesses requires

Faith and courage- their irrepressible inspires

Someone like me in ways that I had never imagined before

I learn from my patients who motivate me to do more

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Each person you meet enters your life for a reason, they say

I am fortunate to meet people in my profession each day

Despite meeting them at a point where they are most vulnerable

I have a chance to witness their spirits indefatigable

I learn something from each patient I meet

I gain life lessons as their illnesses I treat

(September 5th is also celebrated as teachers stay in India

The moment that shaped my career is firmly seared in my mind

What being a cardiologist means to me was by that moment defined

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I was a young doctor trying rather haphazardly to navigate

Life and career, not knowing what would end up being my fate

For short-term employment I was looking around

Little did I know it would change my life in a way profound

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I found a mentor in a cardiologist highly skilled

A healthy respect for heart disease in me he instilled

The moment that sealed my fate was the one where

Exceptional diagnostic and procedural skills he combined to provide care

To a patient struggling with heart failure who improved remarkably

And that encounter for my career path gave me clarity

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I immigrated to another country, and after many trials and tribulations

I was able to finally earn the designation

Of a cardiologist- an achievement that I owe

To the cardiologist who taught me much of what I now know

It is believed that we need solutions innovative

For real world problems, we need to get creative

Challenging the status quo is required

To get to the utopian state desired..

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Words like creativity and innovation have an undeniable appeal

But in chasing out of the box solutions, I feel

We forget that commonsense solutions can be found

To many problems, if we simply look around

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In a world with resources that are finite

We must keep wastage of resources in sight

Too often, enough attention to simple solutions we do not give

We are lured by complex solutions that are resource-intensive

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Undoubtedly there is a need for ideas new

But there is a place for simple, timeless and commonsense solutions too

I missed the boat on learning a skill essential

I never learnt how to type, thinking it would be inconsequential

As someone who finds poor spelling hard to forgive

With significant embarrassment I’ve had to live

Because of mis-typed words, which make me cringe with shame

And for which my lack of education is to blame

With near universal spellcheck, I breathe a sigh of relief

But if there is no auto-correct feature, mis-typing still gives me grief

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Now I almost exclusively use speech to text applications

But most software programs are not great at comprehension

Of a pseudo-American accent such as mine

Often meaningless jargon in my notes I find

That needs to be corrected by typing out the right stuff

To completely eliminate typing from my life is tough..

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These days we have AI-powered tools available

Of summarizing a doctor-patient conversation into a note, they are capable

I have not attempted to use them because of my skepticism

I do not want what I say to be filtered through an AI-enabled prism

But AI has the potential to solve my typing tribulations

One of these days I shall try out the new applications..

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At the end of this long-winded verse, my shortcoming I acknowledge again

I must check my notes for accuracy and from relying solely on computers refrain

Somehow for my art projects I select

Difficult inspiration pieces, I don’t expect

Myself to be able to do justice to the original piece of art

My inexperienced strokes I invariably impart

To the piece I create, and I am left

With artwork that is clearly amateurish and imperfect

Each time that happens, I am reminded that I am not

A trained artist, I need to improve a lot

At the same time, with each project confidence I gain

And I try something beyond my skill-set again

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I wish I could approach my work in a similar fashion

Take on projects beyond my comfort zone, driven solely by passion

But without consequences in art I can make mistakes

Medicine has a much narrower margin, and the stakes

Are so high that to play it safe I have learnt

In fact I am excessively fearful of being burnt

The result is that in my art, improvement I see

But in my profession, stagnation is threatening me

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Somewhere in between the two extremes I need to be

I hope my artistic endeavors serve as inspiration at work for me

I’m quite fascinated and frankly, afraid to learn

The amount of electricity that artificial intelligence burns..

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Training large language models, and running queries on AI platforms

Are energy-intensive to a mind-boggling level, AI performs

Like a gas-guzzling vehicle that is fuel-inefficient

Does the rapid use of AI portend an energy crisis imminent?

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I learnt that a simple query on ChatGPT

Equals running an LED lightbulb for two minutes, evidently

The carbon footprint of ChatGPT is increased by nighttime use

Therefore daytime interaction with AI I want to choose

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As AI prepares to take centerstage in coming years

Its disproportionate effect on climate change I fear

I hope there are ongoing efforts to decrease

The climate liability of AI as its influence continues to increase

I’ve always walked around narrating my life in my mind

I thought it was something peculiar to me, I never thought I would find

Someone else who did the same, until in a book I read

About a female character narrating her life in her head

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Sometimes in first person, sometimes in third, the narrative

Runs in my mind as I go about my life, and I give

A more checkered life to the “character” that is me

Turning each minor challenge into an adversity

I pretend to be a storyteller accomplished

I go further and imagine my writing published

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Maybe narrating their lives to themselves is something a lot of people do

And just like me, they keep it to themselves too

Narrating my life makes me feel like I’m on a hero’s journey

Perhaps others feel the same way as me..

I have made many investments in my life, but now I need to invest

In my unique voice, at a higher priority than the rest..

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I feel as if I’ve been fighting a battle eternal

Between conventional wisdom and my ideas internal

I have felt like a square peg in a round hole

Doing things that continue to deplete my soul

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I’ve walked the path laid out for me

While longing to deviate almost constantly

I’ve spoken in a voice that parrots what I’ve been taught

My own authentic voice I have suppressed a lot

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I’ve been doing what has never sat well with me

I’ve been trying to blend in, but invariably

My discomfort has caused me to stand out

Now I wonder if conformity I can do without..

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I ask myself if anyone has benefited

From my forced conformity that is self-inflicted

It appears the answer is a resounding no

For all my compliance I have nothing to show

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So let me tap into my authenticity

And express myself freely for the world to see I’ve invested in a borrowed voice before

Now my own voice I choose to explore

I should be the first one to tell you that posture is important when you read

But what can I say, I read books sprawled on my bed, indeed..

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I start by sitting on a table and chair, with my back straight

With ambient light that my aging eyes find adequate

But it seems like a replica of my work desk, therefore

Soon I switch to the bed, in order to relax some more

I sit up straight in bed, with the book perched on my knees

Once I am engrossed in the book, my posture starts to ease

Invariably I end up on my stomach, with my head propped on my elbows

Though harmful for my neck, this is the posture my body knows

Is associated with reading, this is how I’ve always read

Books since childhood, right before going to bed

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Reading is the best way to unwind for me

Reading prone in bed has the comfort of familiarity

The habit is exceedingly difficult to break

But I have to make an attempt for my body’s sake

As a gauche introvert, my heart sinks each time I come across

Well-intentioned advice that advocates for networking, I just want to toss

All my hopes of achieving success some day

In a garbage can, simply throw away

Any ambition that I harbor deep inside

I have not succeeded, though I have tried

To network with people, try to sell

All the qualities I have, things I do well

But it is already difficult for me to effectively communicate

Any attempt at self-promotion leaves in a more awkward state

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I stay in a corner hoping someone important would see

The quality of my work and consider offering me

A chance to prove myself, a challenge new

But even if I get there, further what would I do

Because at some point networking would become inevitable

Without it I would bring nothing to the table..

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I have come to terms with my introversion

I must learn to thrive with my mild aversion

To networking in the way that experts recommend

Maybe I shall still be successful in the end..

For some reason I had this notion in mind

That a real artist could only be defined

As someone who used paintbrushes to create

Masterpieces on canvas, mixing on a palette

Watercolors, oil paints or acrylics in various hues

A variety of shades the artist would choose

To create in each piece of art lifelike detail

Real artists, I believed, only created paintings large-scaled

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I had no luck with brushes, their pliable tips did not respond to my will

But the longing to create art stayed with me still

Now pens and pencils seemed much easier to use

Therefore those were the art materials I did choose

Applying them to card-stock, I created

Artwork that with my aesthetic sense resonated

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I expanded my artistic ambitions to canvases slightly larger in size

I still do not paint with brushes, I’ve realized

The firm tips of pens and markers bend to my will

But the paint brushes never have and never will

Dispense paint on a surface in a way that I desire

Therefore I have abandoned paintbrushes and acquired

Pens of every shade, type and thickness

Those way through art myself I’ve finally learnt to express

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I am glad to my fallacious notion I did not stick

And that over paints, colored pens I did pick

At least I am creating art of some kind

Even if is not the image I had in mind