Passion…unbridled

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

Many times I have attempted to marry

The unlikely duo of medicine and poetry

Waxing poetic about health and wellness

Or lamenting in verse about a rare illness

Talking about everything that I in practice see

Incorporating the rhythm of poetry..

*

Verses about Covid and the vaccine I have composed

Risk factors for heart disease I’ve written as a poem instead of prose

The effects of climate change on health I’ve described

I’ve talked about medications, over the counter and prescribed

Cancer, dementia, diabetes, diets have all been included

As subjects of my poems, to many aspects of medicine in my verses I’ve alluded..

*

Both medicine and poetry I am passionate about

Neither one of them I can live without

Merging them leads to an interesting amalgam that I hope to claim

As my unique voice, a way of writing that bears my name

When burnout looms large, I invariably turn

To pen and paper, over time I have learnt

That carving out my thoughts in a manner poetic

Acts as a salve for my soul, the appeal of poetry is magnetic

Not that a literary masterpiece I can write

But with a simple verse, a sense of calm I invite

In to my perturbed state of mind

An instant therapeutic effect of writing a poem I find

*

When I write from the deepest recesses of my heart

When my closeted emotions are ripped apart

When words that I write carry a meaning profound

With a complex web of pain and pleasure, myself I surround

*

Within the words of a poem is my safe place

Into which I retreat when the world is hard to face..

Work in an office had been the global norm

There were few jobs that to this paradigm did not conform

Then came the pandemic with its vital need

For social distancing, and with remarkable speed

Work and school switched almost completely online

Remote meetings the pandemic came to define

The separation between workplace and home went away

This shift in workplace seemed destined to stay

*

Being an essential worker the opportunity

To work from home was never available to me

Sometimes I envied those who did not need to leave

The comfort of their homes, at other times I was grateful I could cleave

Myself from the myriad domestic responsibilities

That if I were at home would never cease

In retrospect, when the world was scary and made little sense

The workplace and my interactions in it were a reassuring presence

*

While returning to workplace is a matter of great debate

For me it helps keep my work and home lives separate

The flexibility of attending meetings virtually is nice

But I’d rather interact in person than through a device..

All self-help books tell you to be intentional

Make a plan, operate in a manner directional

Visualize what you want, and work towards that goal

Be in the driver’s seat, not play a passive role

*

When I read such a book, for the next hour or so

Into a frenzy of goal-setting, myself I throw

I come up with numeric goals, write out elaborate plans

For the next month, next year, and my entire life span

*

I feel so accomplished after that list is made

I can be successful, now that concrete plans are laid

I end the day on a high note, thoroughly energized

I cannot wait for my audacious dreams to be realized

*

The next day dawns, the plans have lost their sheen

I get busy in my chaotic daily life, like I’ve always been

Most of the goals are abandoned by the end of the week

The prospect of me tasting wild success appear bleak

*

Sometimes randomly goals for myself I set

Those goals are more likely to get

Greater attention and effort from me

They are, for most part, not as lofty

So I am able to work towards them more enthusiastically

They are the ones that truly represent me

*

I have a burning desire to do a lot more

And I do not know what the future has in store

I take life one day at a time, unlike the books suggest

Despite my attempts to put their theory to test

A lazy afternoon, sitting in the shade outside

A selection of books incorporating a range of themes wide

Spread before me, I leaf through the pages, trying to make up my mind

Which one to read- which one has words powerful enough to spellbind

My fickle attention, that invariably towards my device drifts

The book that can restore the precious gift

Of my undivided attention, I am trying to select

The book that might my passion for reading resurrect..

*

I absorb the warmth of the sun, the sights and sounds around me

And open one of the books, excited to be free

To read for pleasure on a perfect afternoon

I know I must start now, or this hour would pass soon

Without my attention ever being harnessed

I am a reader with a choice of books, I am truly blessed…

I was told I had to follow a script to succeed

The tried and tested path was the one I needed to take, indeed

Success was formulaic, all the hard work that I was willing to put in

Had to fit in the accepted framework, in order for me to win

*

I used to fancy myself an iconoclast, though in reality

It was the rebellious streak in me

That made me deviate from the path tried and tested

In following a mundane script I was not interested

So I disregarded the advice and decided I would chart

My own course, follow the dictates of my heart

*

I never achieved the instant success that people admire

But I stayed true to my heart’s desires

I put in my best effort, over time I seemed to achieve

Traditional measures of success, I began to receive

Positive feedback on my work- I was on the right track

I felt fulfilled, even if broader recognition I lacked

*

In the years since, success I’ve come to redefine

I am where I was supposed to be, my achievements are aligned

With my perspective on life, my worldview

More than traditional markers of success, my authenticity I value

At least sixteen hours of sensory overload (on a good day)

I wonder how my brain has not exploded away

Processing information constantly, in overdrive

I wonder if it is obstructing my ability to thrive…

*

The 24 hour news cycle drives up my anxiety a notch or two

The social media posts that seem too good to be true

The constant switching between stimuli that reduces my span of attention

I marvel at the extraordinary power of twenty-first century inventions

Over my mind- and the ability of my mental faculties

To adapt to the rapidly changing technologies

*

This sensory overload unfortunately exacts a price

And while behavioral dysregulation could be considered a personal vice

The mind has no time to reset when constantly stimulated

It needs quietude to be recalibrated..

*

The onus lies on me to step away

From the omnipresent phone for at least part of the day

To let my mind be freed from the constant barrage of stimuli

I have no choice but to unplug, I realize with a sigh

If you want my immediate attention

Anything related to travel you may mention

I perk up at the thought of traveling to a place new

To explore a new corner of the planet, or dream about it, is my favorite thing to do..

You can lure me with images of stunning scenery

You can arouse the competitive spirit in me

By giving me a list of places that must in a lifetime be seen

I love to check off all the places to which I have been

And when you talk about travel, be prepared

That some travel story I’m certainly going to share..

*

I do not consider myself particularly well-traveled, but I can say

I am overly enthusiastic when it comes to travel in every way

Most aggravations of my daily life disappear in a new place

With a boost of energy every challenge I am ready to face

*

Is it true wanderlust or is it an escapist tendency

That makes travel so attractive for me-

There is a thrill involved in escaping the grind

In leaving the daily humdrum of life behind

*

Writing down my thoughts on travel has already released

Endorphins in my circulation, my happiness has increased!