Passion…unbridled

There are many blueprints that one can follow

To be successful, but to me such advice rings hollow

Because you are advised to behave in a certain way

To say what others would like you to say

To follow in the footsteps of those who have attained success-

I beg to differ- where is your unique self in this process?

*

Just like anyone else, I crave success too

But following advice blindly is something I don’t care to do

Success on my own terms I want to achieve

In achieving success at the cost of authenticity I do not believe

Maybe this is the rebel in me talking, the one that has been

Silenced by expectations of conformity, remained unseen

*

In a world that tries to change who you are

The ability to stay true to yourself is the best measure of success by far

We combed through tourist traps all day

Where reality did not meet expectations in any way

Overrun by crowds with similar visions in mind

Who were, just like us, disappointed to find

That the sights bore a faint resemblance, if any

To the artificially enhanced internet images many..

*

Exhausted by our travels thus far

Disillusioned by sights subpar

We drove around without expectation

And found ourselves in an area that was beautiful beyond imagination

Where towering cliffs and ocean azure blue

Came together to create some stunning views

We stopped to admire this place that had found no mention

In guidebooks and travel videos, but had arrested our attention

*

When I travel, this is a common theme

The hyped-up places rarely spectacular seem

But unadvertised places in the vicinity

Offer more interesting things to see

Therefore each time I travel, myself I remind

To go off the beaten path at least once, and hidden treasures find

The world in general profits from your self-doubt

Billion-dollar industries would sink without

Keeping you perpetually insecure

About your self-image and more..

*

So if self-assured you stay

You make a powerful statement in a way

Liking yourself becomes, in fact

A tongue-in-cheek reply, a rebellious act..

*

Let the world not profit at the cost

Of your self-doubt, don’t let your self-worth get lost

By liking yourself, show your defiance

To those who expect your compliance

A lot seems hard and my mind

Tries hard to avoid the inconvenience, it finds

Every excuse in the book to discourage me

But the guilt of not doing hard stuff hangs tenaciously

Over my head, until for my peace of mind I decide

To take the plunge, to no longer hide

Behind my excuses innumerable,

To discover whether or not I am capable

Of facing challenges, doing things that appear

Remarkably difficult, things that I fear

*

Things that are hard by definition

Do not become easy just by grit or ambition

But the courage to do hard stuff, once found

Changes you for the better, in a manner profound

Each time I do something hard, myself I remind

To do it more often, not pay attention to my mind.

I just learnt that the English language originally

Did not have a plural for the word “priority”

But these days we all talk about our many priorities

Our to-do lists have seen an increase

In the number of things vying for our attention

Therefore the singular priority has found an extension

Into the realm of plurality-priorities now have to compete

Amongst themselves to occupy the top seat

*

When multiple things we try to prioritize

What we invariably fail to realize

Is that nothing remains a priority in that case

And another exhausting decision we face

To find the one thing that needs to take precedence

Over others based on its importance

*

So let me prioritize one thing in this moment

And for that one task be fully present

I came across an aphorism yesterday

That resonated with me in a powerful way-

It said that people have a tendency to underestimate

How comforting work can be, it captures the relationship of love and hate

That many of us have with work- even when things are not going well

There is comfort in being engaged in work, it does not give us time to dwell

On negative thoughts that lead into rabbit-holes

Work grounds us, shifts our focus to immediate goals

*

Work is a comforting presence in my life, I confess

The predictable rhythm of work is essential to my success

The morning cup of coffee, the mostly predictable commute

The anticipation of a productive work-day, all contribute

To my well-being, despite periods of stress

That often make me want to work a little less

Without work, unmoored and unmotivated I might be

There is comfort in work, I agree wholeheartedly

I had a desire to be heard, and I used to think

That I had a lot to offer the world, if I put to paper my ink

I had the audacious ambition of being known

As a writer, have a respected voice of my own

*

To cultivate and nourish my voice, I tried

But it was impossible for me to take pride

In my voice, because I was unable to find

External validation, the critic in my mind

Continued to tell me my voice was not important enough

To silence that critic was incredibly tough

*

I tried to make peace with the unilateral decision

That since my voice was not worthy of recognition

I would stop trying to nurture it, stop trying to write

But the overwhelming desire to express myself I continued to fight

*

One day in a burst of inspiration

I began to write again, and experienced the exhilaration

Of expressing myself, I decided that day

That I would not allow my voice to be silenced in any way

By my inner critic or the lack of validation

From others-my voice is a celebration

Of my unique place in the universe

I shall remember that each time I write a verse

When I was younger, with lofty ideas in mind

I had thought my style would be defined

By unique, artistic, curated possessions

To project understated elegance was an obsession..

*

It appears I had overestimated my aesthetic abilities

And grossly underestimated life’s realities

So neither time nor the aptitude I could find

To create the curated look I had in mind

Neither interior design, nor fashion

Could I claim as my burning passions..

*

Over time my personal style acquired

A distinctly practical vibe, my life required

Things and processes that were fuss-free

Thus everything was focused on functionality

*

Now I feel everything in my life is too bland

And I want to draw new lines in the sand

Gradually I am trying to rekindle my interest

In arts and crafts, so I can curate the best

And most unique objects that represent me

And carry with them a captivating story..

Maybe the best way

To move forward is to step away…

*

Caught in the midst of a storm brewing around you

You cannot figure out what you want to do

You are too close to the commotion to hear

The voice of reason, no matter how clear

*

You step away from the maelstrom, now you can assess

The situation from a distance, be involved a bit less

Removing yourself from a problem physically or figuratively

Gives you the priceless gift of objectivity..

*

To some extent, you become an observer dispassionate

Your emotions embroiled in the situation dissipate

You move forward with a decision that you have made

With the voice of reason that would have been drowned out, had you stayed

My mind is in emotional turmoil, my creative juices do not flow

I’ve stared at the blank sheet of paper for an hour with nothing to show

For trying to be present for my daily practice of writing

Not just writer’s block but an unquiet mind I am fighting

Exasperated and discouraged, from my desk I rise

It appears futile to persist in this exercise

I need to calm my mind, perhaps meditate

And come back to writing in a calmer state..

*

But I had promised to show up for my creativity, I would hate

To let myself down, to use as an excuse my distraught state

So I decide to describe exactly how I feel

And as more of my dilemma I reveal

Words come to me almost on their own

Before I realize, the verse I am writing has grown

*

I had pledged to exercise my creativity every day

And this was the impetus I needed to drive negativity away

I feel accomplished, and less perturbed as well

When I write, on my depressing thoughts I cannot dwell

And that may be why I shall try to never miss

My daily writing practice- it can turn vexation into calm, and joy into bliss

I scan information on my phone frequently

My brain goes wherever that information takes me

Thinking for myself in depth is something I do on occasions rare

If I think of anything, more information is always there

For me to find through a quick search on the internet

I scan through information fast, but a deeper understanding I rarely get

My “internet brain” appears to be

Incapable of focusing on anything, increasingly

*

To reclaim my lost focus, the strategy that works for me

Is to read a physical book, when I am reading I am free

From the mind-wandering and task-switching that are near-constant

When a device in the vicinity is ever present

That is the only way I counter my internet brain

That is why reading books keeps me sane

I feel depressed and lonely right now

And I need a booster that would allow

Me to uplift my spirits some

So I do what the teenaged me would have done

And play dress-up, that feminine urge never gets old

Seemingly frivolous, it has benefits profound, truth be told

I dress up in my finest silks, pulled out from the recesses of my closet

After draping a magnificent saree, I am no longer upset

The exquisitely crafted weave luxurious feels

Against my skin, to my senses it appeals

*

I drape a saree, then stand before a mirror and preen

I add some heirloom jewelry and feel like a queen

By this act of self-indulgence my spirits have been raised

In dressing up in a saree, my femininity and culture, both I have embraced