Passion…unbridled

One day, one moment, one decision

Based on a nebulous, imperfect vision

Took the road I was not planning to take

Did not make the choice I thought I would make

Two decades ago a decision I made

To an alternate life goodbye I bade

Never looked back, stashed the whole episode away

In a corner of my memory, until it surfaced one day..

*

If I had chosen the alternative path, where would I be?

The question came to haunt me suddenly

There are two sides of a coin, did the side I chose

Lead to a better life, or did it inadvertently close

Further avenues that would have been open to me

Had I made my choice differently?

*

I made a life-changing decision

Guided purely by my intuition

The road less traveled by I did not take

Hopefully the best decision I did make

(Today, April 26 is the Independent Bookstores Day)

I get a frisson of excitement every time I walk through the doors

Of a treasure house of unique books, an independent bookstore

Those who sell books in their stores in this day and age have to be

Guided by strong conviction and a sense of duty

To guard the written word and ensure wide-ranging books accessible remain

To avid readers who return to these bookstores again and again..

*

I can order online with a single click and receive

A book on my device within minutes, but I believe

That browsing books in print in a bookstore

Draws me into reading much more

Who knows what gem of a book my fancy would find

Who knows which obscure author would captivate my mind?

*

We must as a society let independent bookstores thrive

Let readers lose themselves in books, let the magic of reading come alive

(

My writing feels insipid, uninspired

A jaded tone my writing voice has acquired

The reasons behind it I am trying to explore

Knowing that this has happened before..

*

The state of the world is chaotic at best

Uncertainties loom large, my mind cannot rest

Amid a heightened sense of anxiety, I am not

Able to generate coherent creative thoughts..

*

There are days when work expands to fill

Every available minute, and I cannot will

My overworked brain to brainstorm and ideate

With the result that good writing I cannot create

*

There is a story inside me that longs to be shared

But I cannot bring myself to do it, I am scared

Of exposing to the world my vulnerability

And that is extremely difficult for me

My writing is uninspired because I am trying to hide

The raw, authentic story that lives inside…

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