Passion…unbridled

I had been composing poems, but was afraid to show

My writing to the world, I thought I did not know

Enough about poetry to have the audacity to claim

That my rhymes were “poems”, surely poetry of literary acclaim

Is not supposed to rhyme in the way my verses do

Regarding the literary elements of a poem, I have no clue

All I know is that when I try to express my thoughts

I do it in rhyming verses more often than not

*

I came across a book of poetry where in the preface

The poet had confessed that she had felt out of place

Writing poems because they were composed

In free verse, she thought they resembled prose

That words needed to rhyme in a poem was what she was taught

Therefore for the longest time with doubt her writing was fraught..

*

I let out a chuckle when I read her confession

Both of us seemed to have the impression

That our writing did not to accepted standards conform

But eventually we found the courage to write in the form

That came to us naturally, instead of trying to write

In a manner that did not to us feel right

*

Life is too short for us to stifle our creativity

Because it does not conform to certain standards arbitrary

There is a place for every style of creative expression

Therefore in rhyming verses I distill down my worldly impressions

When I think of feminism I am drawn invariably

To the many embodiments of “Goddess Shakti”

She is the personification of divine feminine energy

Who inhabits various forms legendary

She has both benign and fierce incarnations

That for me signify women’s liberation

*

The fierce “Kali” teaches me to fight

Against injustice, through her display of might

To the benevolent “Saraswati” I pray

So that I continue learning every day

“Lakshmi” the Goddess of Prosperity

Reminds me to be grateful for the abundance around me

“Parvati” embodies devotion to family

“Sita” teaches resilience to me

*

Before I turn to the Western movements for women’s liberation

I should look at my cultural traditions for inspiration

I feel empowered when my strength I derive

From my roots, to stay true to them I must strive

Around a philosophy of saying yes, my career I had built

When people asked for more, I would give, because the guilt

Of knowing someone could suffer if I said no

Would keep me up at night- thus my responsibilities continued to grow

When people expressed gratitude, I felt gratified

That to go above and beyond I had tried

It would have been acceptable to say no in some situations

But that would have caused delays and consternations

I did not know at the time but by doing this I was trying

To build my fragile self-worth, while to myself I was lying

That I was doing it to help others in need

In truth, my insecurities I was trying to feed

*

My boundaries were never set, over time this I realized

Knowing what I do now, it should not have been a surprise

That encroachment on my time gradually increased

The demands to accommodate others never seemed to cease

Until I was running on empty, wearing myself out

Saying yes to everything was something I could do without

*

Trying to set boundaries has been a battle uphill

There is anger and outrage from others, guilty I feel still

But standing my ground is what I need to do

Uncouple my self-worth from my work too

You can never become indifferent

You can never become immune

When your patient despite your efforts loses their life

It affects you profoundly, it cuts like a knife

You retrace your steps, you wonder if there was something you could have done

That you did not do, something that would have changed the outcome

You mourn the loss, you feel defeated

Your reserve of stoicism has been depleted..

*

Death is an integral part of practicing medicine

Each death feels like a loss, each life saved a win

But death keeps us grounded, while saving lives

Gives us the motivation to try our best, sustains our drive

*

The finality of death makes it a bitter pill to swallow

But in despair I cannot continue to wallow

I reflect in gratitude on the time I had spent

In caring for my very sick patient

I achieve closure and am able to continue

To care for my other patients too

I love sprawling metropolises, the megacities

Where construction never does cease

Of skyscrapers and business empires

Cities that represent ambition, success and desire..

Walking through crowded sidewalks and squares

I imbibe the ambition hanging in the air

My heart pulsates with the rhythm fast-paced

Of the cacophony of myriad sounds of the place

I return from a city, completely energized

I throw myself into work so my goals can be realized

*

I equally love small towns where time seems to slow down

The idyllic town squares, the quaint downtowns

Appeal to my creative side, serving to inspire

Me to pour on paper or canvas my desires

Where I can sit for hours in a bohemian cafe and daydream

Where the concept of slow living reality does seem

I return from small towns, relaxed and rejuvenated

My craving for simplicity thoroughly satiated

*

I live neither in a metropolis nor a town that is small

My home a mid-sized city I call

Where the pace of life is neither dizzyingly fast nor too slow

Therefore to both large cities and small towns I go

When I travel, I like both in equal measure

Diametrically opposite experiences in both kinds of places I treasure

I eagerly anticipate the arrival of the summer solstice

The longest day of the year, filled with the promise

Of glorious sunshine, of days that stretch forever

Of endless hours to bring to fruition every endeavor..

*

The summer solstice boosts my industriousness

I complete projects in various stages of progress

Assisted by the long hours of daylight

That keeps my creative spark burning bright

*

I do make hay while the sun shines

My spirits with the hours of daylight align

While in winter I fight the urge to hibernate

Summer is the time when I rejuvenate

I rush in to treat the patient whose heart is not beating right

I take decisions quickly, like a warrior ready to fight

The patient’s life depends on my ability to be quick

For which I rely on extensive experience with patients sick

*

A patient in clinic with chronic heart disease I see

I review his condition, his prior tests and treatments extensively

I make gradual changes, a comprehensive regimen outline

After a year or so, the patient is feeling fine

From being short of breath at rest to walking a mile a day

With shared decision-making, he has come a long way

*

This dichotomy of decision-making everyday I embrace

I take instant life-saving decisions when I face

A patient with a life-threatening emergency

At the same time patients with chronic illness I see

For them, the decision-making process is slow and deliberate

Incorporating clinical and socio-economic data with patient preferences I create

Sustainable treatment plans to help them thrive

With their illness, go beyond just staying alive

I believe that each decision pathway

Is gratifying in its own special way

To be granted the privilege of saving a life is sacred to me

And people living their best possible lives is encouraging to see

*

Decision-making, whether slow or fast, depends

On exhaustive training and years of accumulated experience

With each decision I make, I continue to grow

As along my professional path I go

Why does what I am doing not seem enough?

I find my plate full, and I find it tough

To fulfill all my responsibilities current

Yet there is a need to stretch myself to a greater extent

To do something extra, pick up a new skill

Am I stagnating if I’m not climbing a new hill?

*

Everyone seems ambitious and eager to achieve

Where is my drive, why can’t I believe

In myself to aim harder, to add something more

To my repertoire, something I have not done before?

*

Maybe in due time I would be able to aim higher

Until then more confidence in myself I need to acquire

Perhaps I would rekindle some dreams dormant

Hopefully I shall not then stay stagnant

My entire life seems to be built around

Maximizing, efficiency, but alas I have found

That there is a bell-shaped curve here

Where beyond a certain point it appears

That trying to minimize time spent

On tasks leads to me becoming more inefficient

*

As I slash unnecessary steps in every task with military zeal

I become more efficient, I start to feel

Somewhat invincible, I daydream of becoming super-productive

As long as with my commitment to efficiency I live

*

But then comes the inflection point beyond which I cannot

Become more efficient, in fact I start missing a lot

Of finer details that may or may not be consequential

And then I run into a dilemma existential

*

Is there a ceiling on my efficiency?

And if not should I continue to push every boundary

To make every process shorter, such that time I can save

And free up that time to rest, that I crave?

*

The answer to this question I do not know

Perhaps in the future, with artificial intelligence in tow

I shall be able to trim all inefficiencies

By handing tasks over to a bot, and decrease

The amount to time and effort that I expend

In trying to be productive and efficient

I left and wondered if I should have stayed

For years to come, had I the right choice made

At this stage of my life, where would I be

If wanderlust had not bitten me..

*

If I had stayed, there would have been greater stability

But I would not have had the ability

To go far from my zone of comfort

To get back on my feet when I was hurt

Perhaps more comfortable I would have been

But stagnation instead of stability I might have seen

*

I left, and came face to face

With the whole world, I learnt to embrace

Different cultures, values and different points of view

If I had stayed, I would have had opportunities rather few

To broaden my horizons, this seems to be

The greatest benefit of leaving my country

*

Intellectually it was a good move, I guess

But when it comes to the heart, I confess

I traded adventure for loneliness

If I had stayed, it would have hurt less..

If you’re under the impression that you have an image to maintain

I would encourage you to think again

You’ve strived hard to project yourself a certain way

You’ve imbibed certain quirks in how you dress and what you say

Your carefully cultivated image has been designed-

With the goal of achieving success in your mind

*

But your image does not reflect the authentic you

You have to put in a lot of effort, it’s true,

To maintain the facade that you want people to see

You cannot let the mask slip away inadvertently

*

If you forego trying to maintain the image you have in mind

And come across as your authentic self, you would find

Yourself liberated from the tyranny of pretense

You would be yourself no matter which lens

Others view you from- some would like you, others not

But the truth of your being would be to the table brought

*

Your best image is the one in which you appear

Authentic, unapologetic, devoid of fear

I have a relationship of love and hate

With running-I often procrastinate

Before I start my run- my achy joints protest

But eventually I get lured by the prospect

Of feeling accomplished when a mile I’ve run

That feeling is addictive, even though running is not fun

*

In true confession, I can only manage a mile in one go

At a medium pace, neither fast nor too slow

I read while on the treadmill, and I am not quite sure

If it’s running or reading that motivates me more

*

Running is uncomfortable, I get out of breath and sweat

Sometimes a stitch in my side or shin splits I get

But when I finish running, a runner’s high I experience

Fueled by the release of endorphins intense

*

The best part of running is the discomfort, somewhere I read

Though running feels uncomfortable most days, I am led

Back to the treadmill day after day

There must be some truth to this theory anyway..

*

Let me lace up my sneakers and begin to run

After running a mile, my first victory of the day would be won..