Passion…unbridled

I recently came across a fascinating discussion

On how lack of pockets in women’s clothing is a form of discrimination

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Women’s clothes have never had functional pockets in place

Because of this limitations women face

In carrying their belongings in public, they need to carry

Handbags as an additional accessory

Handbags limit movement, can be stolen or lost

Not to mention that they come at an additional cost..

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These archaic fashion rules probably worked adequately

In the Victorian era, for ladies of the aristocracy

Who did not travel anywhere alone

Who did not need to carry cash, ID or phones

These days, all women carry mobile phones, cash and cards

So why do we not outdated fashion norms discard?

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It appears some progressive designers have taken note of this need

They are designing women’s clothing with adequately sized pockets, indeed

Why should I risk losing my belongings in a crowded space

Just because my stuff in my pockets I cannot place..

Fashion should be as functional for women as it is designed to be

For men- in all my clothes, sturdy pockets I want to see!

It is hard to describe how I feel, to articulate my grief

When I’ve read a sizable work of fiction with the belief

That things would work out for the jinxed protagonist in the end

Only to find that the main character never gets to make amends

And dies with unresolved issues, brokenhearted

I find myself mourning the fictional soul departed

I feel somewhat angry at the author for depriving

The protagonist of a chance at surviving

Through the odds created in the plot

I was rooting for the protagonist more than I had thought

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I think I’m still looking for happy endings when I read

But fairytales are not written for adults indeed

Realistic characters have flaws, just like real people do

Sometimes they succumb to adverse circumstances too

But reading a story with a tragic ending leaves me

With a lingering sense of sadness and melancholy

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After my initial anger, now I have come to appreciate

The masterpiece that the author has been able to create

A powerful, immersive and devastating read

This is still the kind of book my soul needs

Backhanded insults disguised as praise

Handed out to women in so many ways..

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“You are not like other women”- that is not

The compliment that it appears on first thought

Through your perceived differences from others you are being defined

Your worth lies in your being exceptional all the time

“You are so smart for a woman” is even worse

As if a smart woman should be a rarity in the universe

“You are so brave to wear that” sounds like an empowering compliment

But it is a actually a subtle admonishment

Suggesting that you’ve gone beyond

The narrow confines of social norms

“You are so independent” subtly discourages you

From seeking help when you need to

It invalidates your need for external support

You are expected to singlehandedly hold down the fort

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So many compliments are micro-insults disguised

That each time you hear a compliment, it is no surprise

That you start looking for a hidden clue

Regarding the real meaning, you stop taking it at face value

After having gone through this list

I must remind myself that genuine compliments also exist

What is this life if, full of care

I have little time to spare

To lose myself in the pages of a book

To be so engrossed that I forget to look

At everything else around me

To have the pleasure of inhabiting vicariously

The characters’ lives, of rooting for their success

Of finding one character over who I obsess

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It is an interesting and productive life that I lead-

That’s how life appears when books I can read

All the tribulations of the day melt away

When I read a book that warms its way

Into my heart- at that moment, nothing else I need

I am a saner, more relaxed version of myself when I read

The curry is cooked, and now awaits

The tempering that gives it its distinctive taste

I heat the oil, add seeds of mustard and cumin

I watch them crackle and then throw in

Some fragrant curry leaves and few red chillies dried

Then add the sizzling mixture to the curry set aside

Aromatic spices bloomed in hot oil impart

Their flavor to the dish, to warm both the palate and the heart

The aroma of my tempered curry serves as the indication

That food is ready, it is an invitation

For my family to gather at the dinner table to eat

Tempering is the last step that denotes cooking is complete

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What is it about “Tadka” or tempering that has inspired me

To wax poetic about it- it is not just a technique culinary

It has cultural significance- each region of the Indian subcontinent

Has a different blend of oils, spices and other condiments

Not only that, every family tweaks the tadka to suit its palate

Thus the humble tadka the diversity of Indian food celebrates

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I learnt from my mother, she learnt from her mother before me

The tadka I grew up with is a signature of my family

The aroma of fresh tempering brings childhood memories to mind

And to pass on this unique recipe to my child I am inclined

Science and advancements in medical technology

Can help my patients live longer, studies tell me

There is yet another procedure, another medication

That I can add to my patient’s regimen, it exemplifies my dedication

To ensure my patients get treatment that is state-of-the art

In the best possible way I want to take care of their hearts..

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With a conviction that more is better, I proceed

To outline the various treatments that my patient needs

I explain each test, each procedure, each medication in detail

I describe in layperson’s terms what each one entails

When I am done, I ask the patient if she questions for me

She stares at me for a minutes, then shakes her head silently

While I am trying to figure out what this implies

She says she does not want any of it, to my surprise

I try to persist in telling her the benefits of my treatment plan

But she is resolute, she is not going to change her stand..

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An octogenarian, she is a petite, slightly stooped lady

Who has over twenty diagnoses in her medical history

And twenty-five tablets for myriad conditions

Prescribed by different specialist physicians

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I was planning to increase the complexity of her regimen, instead what she needs

Is to pare down the number of medications indeed

So I go through each medication one by one

And determine the rationale behind its continuation

Within fifteen minutes, I have managed to reduce

The number to just eight, I’ve also deduced

That she does not need more diagnostic tests

With reduction in medications, some side-effects we would put to rest..

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I can tell you all about deleterious interactions

Among different medications, therefore retraction

Of certain medications would be the right thing to do

Sometimes less is more-in this case it is true

All winners rise early, all CEOs belong to the 4 am club

Such statements in my wounds salt rub

Waking up before dawn is something I despise

Since I cannot rise early, I cannot rise

In my career, or so it would appear

If waking up early is imperative for success, I fear

I would never achieve in life the success I desire

I should forego the goals to which I aspire..

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A lot has been said about getting things done

Before the chaos of daily life has begun

The early bird catches the worm, we’ve been told

That you can get ahead of your competition is the idea we’ve been sold

Many times like a slacker I have felt

Because I cannot get productive morning hours under my belt

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I wake up early with the thought

Of getting work done, mostly I am not

As productive as I visualize myself to be

I’ve noticed I just take longer to get ready..

I still end up, feeling rushed anyway

Because I have to face the rest of the day

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On the contrary, some of my cerebral work gets done at night

After all the chores are done and I turn off the kitchen light

The day is over and I can focus now

On what really matters to me, I can allow

Myself to think and create freely

Without being interrupted constantly

Because on my sleep, I do not want to compromise.

I work efficiently, my productivity does rise

A notch or two above the rest of the day

And when I finally put my work away

I go to bed with a sense of satisfaction profound

Which allows me to get sleep that is sound

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In conclusion, it appears that waking up early

Does not provide any benefit to me

Let me work with my rhythm, at my pace

In the 4 am club, for me there is no space

If only earlier medical attention you had sought

Your illness in earlier stages we would have caught

Why did you ignore your symptoms for so long

You must have suspected something was wrong..

We could have diagnosed you earlier and begin

Appropriate treatment before the damage was done..

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Yes, I suspected something was wrong, but I was waiting to see

If my symptoms would subside or disappear completely

I was afraid of the out-of-pocket expense

For something that could be self-limited, it did not make sense

To seek medical care immediately

I did not know if I would even be taken seriously

Besides, my wages I could not afford to lose

Perhaps you would have done the same in my shoes …

Some people find one role model and try to imitate

Their style and mannerisms, hoping to elevate

Their own personality to the coveted level

Of their carefully chosen role model

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Many inspiring leaders I have been around

But a single person I have not found

To embody all the qualities I wish to emulate

Different facets from different people I incorporate

Into my style, audaciously hoping to build

My own personal brand as a woman confident and strong-willed

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Sartorial styles, mannerisms, quotations

I am constantly on the lookout for inspiration

Many mentors have contributed to my learning, especially in medicine

On the art of being a physician, they’ve imparted their unique spin

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There is no dearth of inspiration around

In most people I meet, there is a mentor to be found

In the winter months, what I crave the most is sunshine

When I start getting irritable, it is a sure sign

For me to figure out a way to get exposure to sunlight

Even if it means working late into the night

The workday is so short that even when it ends early enough

Daylight has disappeared, therefore it is tough

To go out in the sun, unless I am willing to leave

Before my work is done, be ready to cleave

Myself from my desk, leaving work behind

And that requires a substantial shift of priorities in my mind

In this day and age, much of of my work can be

Completed on a computer, working remotely

Yet I feel guilty if I do not complete

Work at workplace, that feels like a defeat

Life at work and dad at home, I work hard to separate

I leave for home only after completing all tasks on my plate

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Because of this obsession most days I leave late

As winter progresses the melancholia does escalate

It is dark when I leave home and dark when I return

I am locked indoors all day, and continue to yearn

For exposure to the sun, which is the only remedy

For the seasonal blues that are affecting me

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My well-being I have decided to prioritize

Therefore, despite my reservations, I now rise

From my desk to leave for home before sunset

This represents a major change in mindset

Driving home in the golden hour feels heavenly

Even if there is unfinished work waiting for me

At work, wherever I look there seems to be

A battlefield- at every step there is an opportunity

To fight a battle to make things “right”

There is room for change at first sight

In every direction, and I strongly desire

To disrupt business-as-usual, at the risk of drawing the ire

Of those in charge, who want to maintain

The status quo that they have worked hard to attain

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I was enthusiastic but lacked experience

I was idealistic, under the influence

Of lofty ideas set by academicians in my field

To me, real world scenarios had not yet been revealed

Eager to make everything “better” I got

Myself into situations that were with conflict fraught

As you might suspect, it did not go down well at all

Those were stressful times that I don’t want to recall

In the opposite direction I let the pendulum swing

My ideas to the table I decided not to bring

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Over time I have come to realize

Not all battles need to be fought, I can better recognize

The ones I should fight, when the moment is right

Keeping my overarching goals and values in sight

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There are seemingly endless battles to fight

And though I would love to be proved right

Each time, my battles I should wisely choose

Not hurl myself at everything like a cannon loose

The imposter syndrome strikes me at work periodically

But I have worked to overcome it, slowly and methodically

So it seldom makes an appearance at work these days

But it has not disappeared, it has changed its ways

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When I start writing, imposter syndrome makes an appearance

Leading to self-doubt and feelings of inadequacy intense

Who am I to have the audacity to proclaim

That I am a writer, with no publications to my name

Even if I forego publication, my writing is inane

My language unembellished and plain…

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Working through this iteration of imposter syndrome, I find

Its appearance acts as a catalyst for my mind

To overcome it, I need to up my game

So that I can add “writer” besides my name

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I’m not a published author, but regularly I write

Imposter syndrome I continue to fight

But I do not get discouraged now

I write as much as my imagination would allow