Passion…unbridled

Flaunting material possessions is bourgeois, and old-fashioned

We want to have amazing experiences that demonstrate the passion

With which we pursue life, experiences that are one of a kind

Involving excess money, exotic travel and an adventurous streak to find

That unique experience that bragging rights provides

Not possessions, but experience-chasing now divides

The haves and have-nots, we want to be able to display

“Amazing”, “surreal” “awe-inspiring” experiences on Instagram these days..

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The world has shrunk, therefore it is easier than ever

To travel far and wide for extraordinary experiences that never

Would have been possible for most people even a decade ago

To be able to do something different gives a boost to the ego

Therefore we have all experience chasers become

Hoping these fabulous experiences would make us “awesome”

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In our relentless quest for something extraordinary

We tend to disregard moments in our everyday lives ordinary

That are truly amazing, that have transformative potential

We find our lives boring, we feel dismal

If we do not have social-media worthy moments in our lives

While chasing uniqueness, in the mundane we forget to thrive

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I am guilty of being driven by the thrill

Of experiences, I realize I never will

Be satisfied if I keep chasing experiences relentlessly

In my ordinary day, let me the extraordinary see..

It would be nice to cook food from scratch

Fresh for every meal, not prepared in a batch

Food would be more flavorful if I could incorporate

Spices freshly ground, that explode on the palate

Melt-in-the-mouth soft would the texture of food be

If it was cooked on a low temperature setting slowly..

If vegetables could be perfectly cubed and diced

The curry I make would be a feast for the eyes

If I had the luxury of time to cook lovingly and with care

More appetizing, satiating and healthier food I could prepare

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But I cannot cook from scratch, from fresh ingredients most days

Therefore I try to cut corners in different ways

Sometimes packaged ingredients I incorporate

Instead of fresh ones, for lack of time I must compensate

I use machines to help simplify

The arduous process of cooking, I shall not lie

My vegetables are chopped into pieces unequally

They are hardly pleasing to the eye, aesthetically

I use microwaves and pressure cookers to minimize

Time spent in cooking, the taste it does

compromise

Garnishing with fresh herbs is reserved

For special occasions, since time I have to conserve..

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It leaves me dissatisfied that elaborate steps I have to circumvent

In order to place home-cooked food on the table, despite my intent

But working outside the home is also important to me

Therefore I am perpetually in this quandary..

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I give dietary guidance as part of my treatment plan

To my patients, and try to adhere to my advice as best as I can

Though I am unable to prepare delectable feasts

I rarely order dinner from restaurants at least!

I have mulled over and taken some time to decide

One thing I want to be intentional about, now I want to abide

By my decision- each day I want to indulge in something creative

Whether a new spin to old thoughts I give

Or find a novel way to complete tasks routine

Write something new, take a route previously unseen..

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I had long assumed I did not have a creative streak

Traditional expressions of creativity I never did seek

That creativity could take many forms, I had not realized

When I finally understood the full breadth of creativity I was surprised

To know that many of my problem-solving techniques

Would count as creative, being innovative and unique

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It took me a while before I could perceive

Myself as creative, before I could learn to believe

That being authentic in self-expression

Is of the creative process a manifestation

Now I consciously try to seek a way

To be original, be creative every single day

I remind myself that I possess

A supply of creativity that is endless

I see the world through fresh eyes

I am perpetually ready to be surprised

Each new experience is an opportunity

For me to flex the muscle of creativity

A dictum that we all have internalized

Is that more is better, we have capitalized

On human ingenuity to ensure

That as time goes by, we keep acquiring more

The availability of more resources has raised

Our standards of living, scientific advancements are to be praised

For various drugs and treatment modalities innovative

So that longer and healthier lives we can live

In our affluent lives, we consume more and more

And with that, our lives should be better than before..

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Then why are we more stressed out and sad

Surely having much more should not be bad..

Conspicuous consumption in a world with resources finite

More consumption of resources over which we fight

More stuff to fill our lives at the cost

Of time and relationships that are lost..

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Perhaps it is time to remember the principle of success

Everything in moderation is good, but excess

Can be detrimental, and therefore

Less may actually be better than more

My sleep I am known to compromise

To keep reading until I reach the surprise

Ending of a book, sleep is less important than

Unveiling the mystery in a plot well-planned

Without reaching the end I would toss and turn

Therefore the midnight oil I burn..

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Not just a mystery, but a book of any kind

That thoroughly engages my mind

Gives me the urge to compulsively read

Another page, another chapter- that greed

Transcends my circadian rhythm’s influence

And I manage to go on despite sleepiness intense

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Reading before bedtime is suggested frequently these days

Instead of scrolling on the phone, reading is better in many ways

The idea is that people would gradually be lulled

To sleep while reading, but I rarely find books that dull

I am excited and stimulated when I read

My creative juices come alive indeed

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As an avid reader, I am energized

By all kinds of books, but it is unwise

To stay up late to reach the end

And get less sleep than I need and intend

So I need to tear myself away

From interesting books at the end of the day..

Why does it hurt so much when you hear

The unvarnished truth from those you hold dear

You know the truth in your heart even when you

Do not want to acknowledge readily what is true

You know your dear ones know your ugly secrets anyway

And with audacious optimism, you hope they would never say

Them out loud before you, you know they have the ability

To destroy you with their knowledge, you hope this would never be..

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Your worst fears are realized when the ugliest truths about you

Are aired in the open, there is nowhere to run to

It feels like a betrayal but it really is not

What you dislike about yourself has now been brought

To the forefront, there is no choice except

To examine and gracefully accept

Your shortcoming, and then work towards improvement

You take it as an opportunity, and let go of resentment

There must be a sweet spot I need to figure out

Between being a rule follower and following my intuition, no doubt..

I tend to gravitate towards the extreme ends

Either I follow rules completely or completely bend

Existing rules if my intuition suggests otherwise

Following rules blindly makes me feel irrelevant , I’ve realized

While following intuition blindly is a brave thing to do

Sometimes the consequences can be hazardous too

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I think the best thing is to treat existing rules as templates or guidelines

And use my creativity and intuition to design

A path forward that is unique but not outside the norm

Live a life that is authentic but still conforms

To most societal conventions in such a way

That I blend in enough but still stand out any day..

I need only one accessory for accompaniment

That can provide sufficient entertainment

When I am stuck somewhere and have to wait

My appetite for reading I satiate

I take out my book and place it in my lap

Or bring up an e-book on my phone app

And start reading, sometimes to my detriment

Even in places where I should remain vigilant..

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I must take a book with me everywhere

I cannot imagine having a moment to spare

And not having a physical or electronic book to read

A book is a comforting companion indeed

When I am among strangers, in a new place

And the awkward glances of others I don’t want to face

In the book I am carrying, my face I immerse

To making small talk I am quite averse..

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Sometimes my obsession with carrying a book

Somewhat strange and ridiculous does look

To carry a book while running errands may seem futile

But it is just a quirk of mine, my unique style

I had been wronged, of course I was upset

That is all I could think about, I could not forget

I wanted retribution, or reparation maybe

Or at the very least, a sincere apology

I would tell everyone about the injustice I had faced

People usually agreed that my anger was well-placed

Most extended empathy, some counseled me to let go

But the hurt ran deep, whether I could forgive, I did not know..

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I carried the grudge in my heart for years

I poured my sob story into every willing ear

Slowly it dawned on me that I was being shunned

On deeper self-examination, the realization left me stunned

That holding on to the grudge had left me full of bitterness

I had let myself decay slowly in this process..

The person who had wronged me was no longer around me

It was time to forgive and move on finally..

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To let go of anger required a ceremony

I wrote a letter forgiving my (mostly imaginary) enemy

And set it on fire, letting my grudge burn down

My burden turned considerably lighter, I found

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So many years of my life I had spent

In futile bitterness, but from now on my intent

Was to forgive freely, so that I could set

Myself free from anger, even if I did not forget

It was difficult to bridge the generational divide

Between grandma and me, there was a chasm wide

Raised in two different eras and two different continents

Communication was stilted despite our best intents

Language and cultural barriers were quite vast

We wished to create memories that would last

But I could not imagine her world, mine she could not comprehend

We shared little despite the time together we tried to spend

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She had uprooted herself at her age to come live with us

She had tried to adapt to our style of living without a fuss

Gradually she had made the kitchen her domain

Serving us gourmet food instead of meals plain

Although I admired the delectable food she prepared

To attempt something as complicated I would not have dared

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Fate had to conspire to make our worlds collide

Where else, but in the kitchen, we bridged our divide

One day she asked me for assistance in opening a can

The aroma in the kitchen made me wonder what was in the pan

It was a grain I had never heard of or seen previously

I found its description online when she told me its name in Hindi

Apparently it was a ceremonial food meant to be consumed

During ritual fasting- my grandmother resumed

Cooking the dish with a beatific smile

And I just stood there watching her for a while

Until she asked me to get involved too

And despite being sure this was something I could not do

I started following her instructions to prepare

The first of many dishes that we would come to share..

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From that day onwards, every opportunity I took

In learning from her how to cook

Traditional Indian fare, in doing so we bridged our divide

I learnt about my culture through food, I learnt to take pride

In the rich culinary tradition of my ancestral land

The language of food prepared with love, I began to understand

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Food is an expression of love, they say

It became evident to me that day..

No one knows my wanderlust better than my devices

Planning imaginary trips is one of my vices

So the tailored and filtered content that I see

Of exotic travel makes me go green with envy

As if gloating over friends’ travel pictures weren’t enough

Seeing travel vlogs and instagram travel reels is much more rough

On my psyche because I start wallowing in self-pity

I am stuck making a living when there is so much to see…

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Getting sucked into social media consumption is terrible, I realize

But from breathtaking pictures and videos, I cannot avert my eyes

So I get drawn into consuming travel related content

For hours at a time, despite this not being my intent

I try to tell myself that I am expanding my knowledge of geography

But the truth is that I am just wasting all my time that is free..

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One day I shall travel to exotic places too

And let me just admit what I’m going to do-

Take pictures with the singular intent

Of creating watchable social media content…

You tell anecdotes, stories you narrate

To your family and friends, you integrate

Fact and fiction, history and folklore

You read to your children tales that you have adored

Since childhood, you bequeath cherished traditions

Through storytelling, with some omissions and additions..

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The most important story lives within you

You are hesitant to tell that tale, but it is true

That the greatest story you can narrate

Is your own, the one in which you can integrate

Your past, present and future, your values and motivation

To weave a story as unique as you in your situation…

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You may think that a very ordinary life you live

But you are still a cauldron of interwoven narratives

That deserve to be shared with those close to you

When you tell stories, share your personal tale too..

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And if you are a writer or aspire to be one

Write down your story, let your struggles and achievements unsung

Find expression, because your masterpiece would be

Your own story, narrated with authenticity