Passion…unbridled

The feminine urge to dress up for an event

Is always alive to a certain extent

Even when you think you are bone-tired

The energy to choose a stunning attire

For a party, you can always summon

You know you are going to strive to be someone

Whose appearance draws both envy and admiration

Who gets to be the cynosure of all eyes, garnering attention..

*

You know you are not that woman, you do not possess

The patience that is required to appear well-dressed

From head to toe, including make-up and hair

You try a little, but you really don’t care

Your hair is unruly but at least your outfit is good enough

Quickly you try to smooth some edges rough

By then you are already running a little late

You depart for the party, in a pretty stressed state

*

You are somewhere in the middle in how you are dressed

You look fairly nondescript, certainly not one to impress

Another woman strikes up a conversation with you

And you open up about the work that you do

The conversation pivots to work and other interests

Those are the areas that fortunately you like best

*

Suddenly you are in your element, and your appearance

Has been rendered inconsequential in the presence

Of other facets of your life that you can now talk about

Moving past superficial appearances, you are relieved without a doubt…

If people loved themselves more

They would have less angst to endure..

*

It’s easy to latch onto criticism so tenaciously

That you constantly admonish yourself subconsciously

For failing to reach standards you have set high

Your inner monologue tries to imply

That you are unworthy, this message you internalize

It becomes the backstory of your life before you realize

*

You fail in relationships, you find it difficult to excel

At anything you do, you are under the spell

Of self-loathing- how do you learn to give

Love to others when without love for yourself you live?

*

It takes supreme effort to change the monologue in your head

From self-loathing to learning to love yourself instead

But once you start treating yourself with love and kindness

You attract the same vibes- you make real progress

Once you start loving yourself unconditionally

Love enters your life from all directions in reciprocity..

*

It is hard to love yourself in a world that seems to thrive

On keeping our insecurities, our inner critics alive

But if only people would love themselves more

They would attract more love for sure

There are so many thoughts I would like to express

But I am afraid, I’ve learnt to suppress

My true thoughts and say only what is expected of me

I have no desire to invite criticism unnecessary 

I don’t want to be viewed as an iconoclast

I definitely don’t want to be a social outcast..

*

I confess I carry thoughts inside me that feel 

Contrary to what society accepts, that reveal

A preference for things outside social norms

But when I express myself, for the society I perform

*

It makes me sad to realize that I might never find

The courage to express what truly is in my mind

My thoughts and ideas I don’t want to take to the grave

In an internal monologue my most unorthodox ideas I save

*

The need to express myself is an existential one

I can do that in writing, that is seen by no one

I am not looking to change the world nor change any minds

I simply want to resolve the constant confusion in my mind

Between my independent ideas and what I’ve been taught 

This is a battle that only through expression can be fought

*

So let me take a few moments to write about

Something that has caused me consternation throughout

Maybe I shall discover a perspective new

Maybe I shall find middle ground too

I had erroneously assumed that to be creative

In an unstructured environment I needed to live

Where there would be no set schedule to follow

Where I could get into a state of flow

Unfettered by time and life’s never-ending chores

If only I were free, I could write so much more…

*

I could not have been more wrong, later I realized

Creative endeavors needed discipline, to my surprise

Following a structured path and trying to carve for creative expression

Enough time in a disciplined fashion

Was actually what I needed in order to write

With time dedicated to writing, I could keep a goal in sight

*

Of course inspiration can strike any moment

When it does, I file away the idea with the intent

To execute it during my scheduled time to write

This way writer’s block less frequently I fight

*

Even though creativity cannot by time be constrained

To keep creative endeavors alive, discipline should be maintained

To be a conscientious doctor, I would strive to be

Available and responsive to my patients readily

When I met patients I would try to provide

Reassurance to them that I was by their side

I encouraged them to send in their questions or concerns

I had an intent to answer them promptly, phone calls return

Within a day or two, I wanted to address

Anything that was causing them distress

I thought it would help keep hospitalizations at bay

Allow my sick patients at home to stay

I also saw patients when they requested appointments urgent

To turn no one away was my intent

Of course, I wanted to build my reputation too

Being available to patients seemed the right thing to do

*

My practice expanded, my workload did as well

I tried to keep up but soon I could tell

That there was no way I could reply to my patients’ queries

Engaging with their questions was a practice I needed to cease

I had to limit seeing patients added on to my schedule

At the last minute, they would be seen by appointment only as a rule

*

The patients did not like this change as I had feared

My image was tarnished, now I appeared

To be callous, or lazy, and everything in between

Truthfully, this was additional workload that went largely unseen

By the powers to be, I was staying late every day

To keep my patients satisfied in every way..

*

I asked for help, an assistant to convey

Whatever it was that I wanted to say

To patients, some still resented me for the lack

Of direct communication, but I knew I could not go back

My assistant would now help me decide

Whether I needed to see someone urgently so that I could adequate care provide

*

I am a less than perfect doctor now

But imperfect communication has allowed

Me to focus on actual patient care

There aren’t enough hours in the day to spare

In responding to patients’ questions, I have to delegate

This responsibility to someone else in order to accommodate

An ever increasing number and complexity

Of the patients that I am trained to see

Not just equal, but equitable

Everybody gets a seat at the table

Equal opportunity leading to equity

Welcoming all, practicing inclusivity

Letting diverse voices chime in

That is how I thought we would win

*

That playbook has been nullified

Principles of equity stand vilified

It’s all about merit, they say

But the focus on merit had never gone away

The table is like a country club exclusive

That admission to only the privileged few gives

*

I continue to believe that a sovereign society is just

Once outrage dies down, and we see settling of the dust

The conversations around these topics shall be revived

I daresay these liberal ideas shall survive

Whenever I come across advice for writers to show, not tell

I admit I’m perplexed, I don’t comprehend well

How a reader would be able to picture the exact scene the writer has visualized

The difference between reading a book and watching a film in my eyes

Lies in being able to conjure a scene that has its foundation

In the writer’s words but is built on the reader’s imagination

While watching a film, the producer’s vision is shown

But while reading, the scene is visible to the reader alone

*

A writer may use language to describe in vivid detail his or her vision

But the same description every reader would in a different manner envision

Thus writers do not really “show” but tell

The readers what to imagine, the best ones just do it exceptionally well..

*

If I want to be told how a scene unfolds, a book I would read

If I want to be shown, watching a film is what I would need

We are so divided that other people seem to face

An alternate reality from us in the same physical space

We do not understand their point of view at all

Nor do they comprehend ours, we hit a wall

Talking about everyday lives, even in a conversation mundane

From running into diametrically opposite viewpoints we cannot refrain

*

In what world do we live where the same facts appear

To have opposite contexts, we retreat into discomfort and fear

When conversations contentious tones acquire

Making small talk utmost caution requires

*

There has to be common ground we can find

We must be able to communicate with an open mind

Be ready to acknowledge that what we believe

To be the reality is not completely true, while what the other side perceives 

Is not completely false either, the truth lies somewhere

In the middle, but we have drifted too far on one side to be aware… 

I pick up my phone looking for some inspiration

While browsing, though my true motivation

Is to find something interesting to write about

Or to learn more about my world without stepping out

What I end up with is mindless consumption of content

Scrolling through gorgeous videos and enticing advertisements

That do not inspire, but rather make me feel inadequate 

Or compel me to spend on needless stuff in order to alleviate

The negative feelings that creep up in my mind

Instead of inspiration, frustration is what I find

*

I go for a walk and take in the sights around me

I return invigorated, ready to express myself creatively

Being in nature has had a calming influence

Simultaneously providing other health benefits immense

Sometimes I go to the library, spend an hour or two

Browsing through books is my favorite thing to do

This is one of the best ways to let inspiration find me

Imbibing different ideas spurs my creativity

*

Whatever I’m looking for, the answer is not to be found

On my phone, and yet when I look around

My first instinct is to pick up my phone 

I know in this unfortunate habit I am not alone

When I think about it, it influences my brain

In a subtle, sinister way, therefore from my phone I must refrain 

If people think all that Indians can cook is “curry”

This is a myth I would like to bury..

*

Curry is the by-product of colonization

It reduces the complex cuisine of a diverse nation

To one single term, that the British devised

Those unfamiliar with Indian food would be surprised 

To know that there are thousands of recipes with ingredients myriad

The culinary breadth of India reduced to a single word makes me sad..

*

In a land full of spices of every kind

Diversity of ingredients in food you can find

There are many ways to cook every vegetable and meat

You could make “curry” every day, and ingredients not repeat

For days because each dish has a combination unique

Of textures, and flavors, to satisfy whatever an Epicurean palate might seek..

*

I think it is a disservice to Indian cuisine when we try to explain

Our dishes as curries of some kind, why do we remain

So tied to colonial terminology even to this day

Let us describe our authentic food the right way

Our cuisine is diverse, and cannot be defined

By one signature dish, our food to one word cannot be confined

Does every health condition, every symptom we face

Need treatment, do rest and hydration really have no place

In managing a variety of ailments, it seems hard to believe

That our ancestors lived without hundreds of medications to relieve

Every fever, every cough, every ache and pain, and depression

Why do we have with medications this obsession?

*

As a society we are increasingly intolerant

Of suffering, if we are sick our intent

Is to feel better right away, we do not want to give

Ourselves the tincture of time, we don’t want to live

With temporary discomfort while we wait

To get better, let our symptoms abate

*

We are always busy with many responsibilities

Work does not adequately accommodate disease

We need to get back on our feet fast

We cannot afford our illnesses to last

More than a few days- we have to return

Back to work, a living we have to earn

Sometimes we use medications as a crutch

To get back to work, since we cannot rest much..

*

As I recuperate from a viral illness, I remind myself to rest

And drink more water, this remedy is the best

From taking a pill for bodyaches, I refrain

After all, it is not dangerous to experience some pain.

I once thought my limit was the sky

I had set the bar for myself high

In terms of achievement in every sphere

As time went by, I realized I lived in fear

Of not being able to reach the heights

I had set my eyes on, life was a constant fight

To soar higher and higher, there was no ceiling

The constant climb left me reeling..

*

I had thought by reaching for the stars I would declare

Myself extraordinary, more than anything I cared

About distinguishing myself from the crowd

I wanted to be unique, and proud..

*

I have learnt enough lessons by now to know that I

Am not someone who can fly high

Let me keep my feet closer to the ground

Instead of being lonely in the sky, find community around

To be extraordinary or distinctive I would not strive

I would rather be a harmonious part of the hive