Passion…unbridled

It is December and on various platforms appear

Lists of the best books of the year

Curated by editors, publishers, influencers and even a former president

For avid readers like me they are meant

In these handpicked lists I take interest keen

I measure against them to see how prolific a reader I’ve been

*

I must have been reading in another universe this year

I am disappointed to see hardly any of the books I’ve read appear

On various lists of best books, I wonder what the reason could be

Am I losing interest in books with merit literary?

*

On closer examination I’ve found that a lot of books listed

Include dystopian scenarios and plots impossibly twisted

From such books I have tried to stay away

I don’t want books to leave me perturbed throughout the day

*

Books on a wide range of subjects I have read

But I have not chosen them randomly, instead

I have focused on books with characters grounded in reality

I have sought authors who hope for our future see

*

I did not read read editors’ picks but I did read

A number of excellent books this year, indeed

My patient who has come in with his wife for a visit hands me

Sheets of paper tabulating his vital signs that I can see

There are notes in the margin indicating symptoms as well

The record-keeping is impeccable, and I can tell

That the patient and his wife have painstakingly

Followed each instruction to the letter “T”

His medication list is meticulously maintained and updated

He has shown better compliance than I had anticipated

*

On the other hand, when as a patient to my appointments I go

I am completely disorganized, I know

Doctors make the worst patients, that aphorism I exemplify

I cannot seem to follow medical advice properly, even when I try

Cognitively I understand my doctor is right

But my obstinate brain still wants to fight

About fifty percent of the time I follow advice

The rest of the time my compliance does not suffice..

*

Maybe from my compliant patient I should learn

How to be a good patient and the doctor’s approval earn..

Whenever I see people use their hands to create

Something beautiful or functional, I naturally gravitate

Towards them- I want to watch them in the process

In a world where most of us are obsessed

With increasing levels of productivity

I find it quite refreshing to see

People making things using manual skills

Watching their labors of love my heart fills

With a warmth that nothing produced in a factory can provide

I want to see their eyes shine with unmistakable pride

As they near completion, ready to display

The work they have done in their unique way

*

Increasingly I have come to value

Handmade objects, especially if they are one of a kind too

In a world where AI is set to dominate commercial design

Handmade for me the ultimate luxury defines

These days I find myself low on inspiration

My creative expression does not meet expectations..

*

I struggle to find something to write about that does not appear

Rooted in despair, cynicism or fear

The world increasingly seems to be

An unsafe place, full of volatility

All the events occurring in the world evoke

Strong emotions, my simmering anger stoke

As a rule of thumb, I do not write

When feelings of anger I am trying to fight

Anger suppresses my flow of ideas too

Writing a verse is the last thing I can do

When I am upset at the deplorable state

Of the world- I let my anger abate

Before starting a creative project in writing or art

To express myself well, I need tranquility of the mind and heart

A feedback sandwich I never want to receive

When I hear feedback in this manner, what I perceive

Is that I have been manipulated or tricked

After receiving a smile to my face, in the back I’ve been kicked

I know feedback is necessary, especially if it is negative

But sandwiching it between two established positives does not give

The message the kind of cushion that is being attempted

I would prefer to be from the tasteless slices of bread, exempted..

*

I like to receive brutally honest criticism, even if it stings

And when I have tried to deliver a feedback sandwich myself, it does not seem to ring

True or genuine, I am uncomfortable trying to hide

The real feedback, I can tell I sound insincere

And when I am sincere in my criticism, that’s not how I want to appear

*

As someone who would call a spade a spade

I am uncomfortable with how social norms are made

To avoid conflict in all interactions, at all costs

In trying to appear polite, the real purpose of the interaction gets lost

*

I prefer to get stung, process it and move beyond

The initial discomfort, then appropriately respond

To the constructive criticism and try to make

Changes to my behavior, correct my mistakes

In my culture, a book is never supposed to touch the ground

This cultural belief is so deep-rooted that I have found

Myself getting perturbed when I see

A book kept on the floor, instinctively

I want to pick it up and keep it on a higher surface

Near human feet is not for a book an appropriate place

*

If I drop a book on the ground, I pick it up and raise it to my forehead

Apologetic for dropping it, books are sacred

Stepping on a book is an egregious mistake

Something that I would never want to make

*

Books are teachers, therefore, in a larger context

Books deserve to be treated with similar respect

I hope the trend of stacking books on the floor

Does not last as an acceptable form of home decor

It is 2 AM at night; I cannot sleep

And I cannot visualize myself counting sheep

I’m squandering away the rest I have earned

After a busy day at work, I don’t have hours to burn

In a state of wakefulness, I know I would be tired

The next day after a night of staying wired

*

I’ve gone through the best parts of my day

I’ve tried to channel pleasant thoughts in every way

I reach for my phone in desperation

And embark on a futile search for inspiration

On strategies to deal with sleeplessness

But my mind keeps racing in a manner relentless

*

While tossing and turning, a sense of loneliness profound

Engulfs me- I feel I am the only one around

Wide awake at this hour of the night

Trying to fall asleep with all my might..

*

The next day I wake up, jolted by the alarm on my phone

I am a but confused, as if in the twilight zone

I remember thinking about feeling lonely but I cannot

Remember if I had any more thoughts

I must have fallen asleep then, I realize

As I try to shake sleep from my eyes

*

It is ironic that insomnia appears to be

An experience that is solitary

But millions of people suffer from this malady

Experiencing it separately but simultaneously

Next time when wide awake at night I lie

To imagine an insomniac counterpart, I shall try

Perhaps that would lull me to sleep

Without going through the ordeal of counting sheep

In the library books in large print I would see

I would sidestep that section completely

Large print was for octogenarians, I thought

Until I began to realize I could not

Read small print in my early forties as I could before

I started paying attention to books in large print some more

With presbyopia encroaching on my myopic eyes

Reading large print was a treat, I did realize

*

Corrective lenses for near vision eventually I procured

So that distress at seeing fine print I would not have to endure

While regular font I can read without straining my eyes

The same does not hold true for words italicized

Words, sentences, paragraphs I cannot read

It is frustrating for a reader like me indeed

*

Therefore, overcoming my prejudice against large-print books

That was the section of the library in which I started to look

Unfortunately there was only a limited selection

Prompting my return to the usual adult book section

*

I wish publishers would keep aging eyes in mind

When the font for a book is being designed

These days most of us rarely use

All five senses in an activity, to choose

Something that involves our senses can be

A grounding practice to counter restlessness and anxiety

*

In searching for a practice that would engage all five senses of mine

I found that some religious rituals were designed

In such a way that sight, sound, smell, touch and taste converge

To connect the soul to the surrounding universe

Although to many Hindu temples I have been

Through this lens the rituals of worship I had not seen

*

I take off my shoes at the entrance

My feel touch the floor, engaging my first sense

I ring the bell and the high-pitched sound

Invokes a sense of spirituality profound

Soothing devotional music I hear

I feel a sense of calm appear

I take in the sight of the deities dressed in silks fine

And the devotees bowing their heads to a power divine

The sweet smell of incense makes its way to me

With four senses engaged, I am now immersed blissfully

In the ritual of worship, after the chanting of prayers is complete

I am ready to accept the prasad, the divine offering, and eat

The food prepared with devotion for the temple deity

This step engages the final sense of taste for me

*

Apart from its religious or spiritual aspect, this practice

Engages sequentially all five senses

Visiting the temple, therefore, I find

Invigorates my spirit and mind

For anyone who has witnessed

Your voice being silenced, your ability to freely express

Yourself taken away from you, you should realize

That your voice is powerful, otherwise

Why would someone try to silence it anyway

Your oppressors know you have something noteworthy to say

That would destroy their fragile sense of superiority

Therefore silencing those perceived as weaker is for them a priority..

*

When your freedom of expression is restricted

Your self-esteem becomes increasingly constricted

You start believing your voice is inconsequential

You end up stifling your own potential

This way you end up proving them right

You give them what they want without a fight

*

Even if you are being silenced, do not lose

Your voice, instead make an effort to choose

Another avenue to make your voice heard

From self-expression, do not let yourself be deterred

You can fool all the people part of the time,

You can fool some people all the time

But it is important to understand that you cannot

Fool all the people all the time- this thought

Attributed to Lincoln is cent percent true

And yet fooling the public repeatedly is what politicians try to do..

*

There are leaders who broadcast their messages loud and clear

And at first promising their ideas appear

Their charismatic speeches exert influence considerable

On the unsuspecting public, and they are able

To come into power, most people still believe

That the new leader would provide them with reprieve

From the failings of the previous leadership

That their fortunes would now be able to

*

Nothing really changes, empty promises continue

Most people are now able to see through

The relentless deception in practice here

Things are really as bad as they appear

*

Some people are still unable to understand

How they are being fooled in their own land

Most people were deceived previously

But the reality they are now able to see

*

The next time there appears an opportunity to vote

The chances of the same person fooling everyone are remote

Another leader would get a chance to deceive

People by giving them new falsehoods in which to believe

It is December and I would like to slow down and reflect

Over the year that has passed, but the prospects

Of being able to do so appear rather grim

My well of things to do is full up to the brim..

*

There are targets to meet, memberships to renew

Thoughtful, personalized gifts I need to buy for everyone too

There are invites to holiday parties that I must accept or deny

That all this does not stress me out would be an outrageous lie..

*

At the same time, the pace of work does not show signs of slowing at all

Respiratory viruses are abundant as we enter winter from fall

It appears that both work and social obligations

Are on a path of relentless acceleration

*

That is why it is even more important for me

To take a pause and reflect momentarily

On the year that has gone by, the lessons I have learned

Before the last page of this year’s book has been turned