Passion…unbridled

I turn this way and that, raise or lower my chin

Trying to stand or sit at different angles to appear thin

Restrain my natural smile so my teeth do not show

Try to get on my face that artificial glow

Re-take pictures a few times because I am not

Satisfied- I look worse in the photographs than I thought

The unmistakable signs of age I am trying to hide

To look my best, every trick in the book I’ve tried

My photographers too end up exasperated with me

I’ve tested their patience to the maximum degree

*

I sift through my pictures, disappointed that they have not

Turned out as well as I had hoped and thought

The background is beautiful, the scenery breathtaking

But looking at my subpar pictures, my heart is breaking

There are hardly any pictures good enough for me to post online

I look old, disheveled, a few pounds heavier than the image I have in my mind…

*

After I have fretted over my bad pictures to my heart’s content

I realize I have become obsessed to a dangerous extent

Regarding how I look in pictures because people who see

My profile online should have a favorable image of me

The weird thing is that in real life I care much less

About my appearance- the people I meet frequently I have no desire to impress

But if I am being honest I pay much less attention

To appearances in real life, I focus more on interaction

With others, while online I seem to scrutinize

People in their pictures- it sounds pathetic, I now realize..

*

While trying to look presentable in photographs is fine

Looking artificially better for the sole purpose of posting online

Is something from which I must consciously stay away

At this self obsession I must try to chip away

All the time I spend worrying goes down the drain

My anxiety is futile, my theoretical concerns in vain

But somehow I have made myself believe the superstition

That worrying about something would prevent it from reaching fruition

I am grateful when the calamities about which I’ve fantasized

Never actually end up getting realized

*

I know life cannot be smooth sailing all the way

I know plans can be derailed any day

I keep plausible contingencies in mind

But I am still unable to relax, I find

The contemplation of a disaster is much worse than being in the throes

Of an actual situation, when my brain knows

That I have to actually act, I have no time to visualize

Hypothetical scenarios, I have to deal with what is before my eyes

I am not that bad at troubleshooting actual issues that arise

Even though I constantly dread an unpleasant surprise

*

Much well-intentioned advice is focused on channeling positive thoughts

I have been trying that forever but I cannot

Switch from worrying to thinking everything would be fine

The only trick that seems to work is to distract my mind

By engaging it in other activities that are productive

That is how with anxiety I am learning to cope and live..

Hundreds of thousands of pages I have read

From the time I learnt to read, I have fed

My brain thousands of nuggets of phrases and sentences

Packaged into stories that still occupy my senses

I have been reading all these years but now I feel

An overwhelming urge to write, to reveal

All the thoughts and emotions swirling through my mind

For the stories stored in my memory, an outlet I want to find..

*

When I think about writing, various roadblocks I face

Should I write a memoir or should I fictionalize the characters and place

Should I write in poetry or in prose

What if I open a can of worms I cannot close

What if unwittingly someone’s unseemly secrets I reveal

What if I unearth hidden trauma from which I myself cannot heal..

*

So many doubts come up when I try

To write something substantial, that is why

I restrict my writing to short verses that do not

Have to describe in detail my thoughts

*

One day I hope I shall gather the courage

To write a long story, page by page…

When I need to find a few moments in my day

To escape the pressures of work and go away

To a different place, I mentally disengage

From work and turn to a crisp blank page

Of my notebook and begin to write

At first writer’s block I have to fight

But then I get into the writing groove

And my pen synchronously with my thoughts starts to move..

*

I lose myself completely as I try to create

A space for myself to think and contemplate

The complexities of life, as I continue to pour

My thoughts into words, I gain insight that I lacked before

*

Sometimes I am fortunate enough

To complete my writing, but often it is tough

To take my verses to a conclusion

The demands of work invariably cause interruption

*

I come back to my unfinished work eventually

And I feel grateful to witness the clarity

That my writing escape has helped me find

Those stolen moments have done wonders for my mind..

If you as a leader want a perspective wide

Include someone from the other side

On your team, listen to their views

Respectfully, and then carefully choose

As the team leader, your overall approach

Hopefully you take a decision beyond reproach..

*

You can choose people who side with you

Who support you in everything you do

Unwaveringly, then your deliberations would proceed

Without opposition, it would be smooth sailing indeed..

But if you have someone with opposite views to state

You can expect some friction, some debates

The end result would be more balanced, though

As your opponent has offered the perspective you did not know

*

Don’t just sit in echo chambers with sycophants around

Let opposing voices also make a sound

Both sides of a coin are valuable, therefore

Listen to the other side some more

I look completely normal but I hide

A deep seated burden inside

Of chronic illness that does not

Allow me to be carefree- the thought

Of instability is never far from my mind

If I am not careful I know I can find

Myself in deep trouble, even a life-threatening emergency

I have to plan for every contingency..

*

You may wonder why I often do not go

Along with your spur of the moment plans, you should know

That plans in my life are rarely made on the spot

Behind my seemingly spontaneous decisions is much thought

I can conquer the world if I am well prepared

To tackle my condition, but I can crash if caught unaware

*

Although I think I manage my condition quite well

On a false sense of security, I never dwell

Unpredictability is the name of the game

No matter how much this illness I tame

*

The constant reminder of my illness

Sometimes gets overwhelming, I confess

I long to do things and go places without

Having to consider my limitations throughout..

*

I am still learning to take life day by day

I know I can easily get carried away

In catastrophizing when things do not appear conducive

But then go back to safety and stability- with this dichotomy I live

I write about issues that are close to my heart

To give expression to my thoughts and emotions I create my art

But I would be lying if I said my art or writing are just for me

I would love for my work to be disseminated widely

Although I focus on enjoying the creative process

If people would see my work, I would count is as a success

I would not be as bothered by criticism or negative comments

As I am by the thought of my work staying irrelevant…

*

Ah, I think it is my ego at play here

It has been bruised over the years, I fear

It makes its ire known to me

It wants validation externally

*

Writing by itself should be validation

Of my ability to write, I should not harbor an expectation

For someone else to read what I write

Writing is for self-expression, of this I should not lose sight…

In a world where time we (women especially) lack

There is always room for another shortcut or hack ..

*

The corridors of social media are replete

With clever hacks to help you complete

Tasks that are lengthy and laborious

In fewer steps without much fuss

Hyperbolically toured as genius tricks

With catchy phrases that in your mind stick

They often promise results similar to, or even better

Than from the original process followed to the letter

But the steps suggested are strange at best

And do not perform well when put to test

Sometimes the hack is an age-old technique

Repackaged and refurbished as being unique

*

I have given in to the temptation

And followed some hacks with the expectation

Of stellar results, only to be completely dissatisfied

I end up regretting the decision of having tried

The hack, lured by the promise of time free

Because extra time is the utmost luxury…

*

Eventually, the number of ways in which something can be done

Is finite-you cannot create something new each time, without repetition

When there is pressure to continually create novel content

When gaining subscribers and followers is the intent

Content creators come up with hacks of all kinds

Because time-saving tools people generally useful find

Except- these hacks are not useful anyway

You would be better off following the tried and tested way..

I need to borrow a playbook from someone

Who is able to get a million things done

Without breaking a sweat or getting fatigued

How many women juggle myriad responsibilities leaves me intrigued

Whereas I am always trying to chase

Time that evaporates into thin air always

Leaving me exhausted, unfulfilled and demoralized

At the end of the day I am left surprised

Thinking about where my schedule I should tweak

To expand my plate further, something I desperately seek…

*

In my fantasy world I would be at the top of my game in my career

I would move from challenge to challenge without fear

Have time to pursue interests of variety wide

All the principles of good parenting in my life would be applied

I would practice self-care so that I could be

The most attractive, accomplished version of me

*

The verse above describes an order of things too difficult to achieve

In real life, even if I could magically believe

That it is possible, I would never be able to find

The do-it-all persona that is etched in my mind

So let me get off the fantasy express into the world that I occupy

And get down to work, foregoing my expectations sky-high

It should come as no surprise

That the spread of social media has given rise

To self-obsession, many of us regularly post online

Pictorial evidence of our daily lives- workouts, outfits, nail designs..

It becomes a reflex and we do not pause

To think why we are posting something, because

We’ve become accustomed to the flattering comments

That we get on our posts, never mind that few are sincere in their intent..

*

If you think hard, unless you are a public figure or a celebrity

Why would most people be interested in the

nitty-gritty

Details of your personal life, why would they care

About what you do all day- although if you share

Too much, some day it may come back to bite

If you became a public figure, much to your future critics’ delight

*

Documenting life on social media in an aesthetically pleasing way

Paints a false picture of your life from day to day

You are probably doing it because of the attention you receive

But at the same time, other people you unwittingly deceive

*

As always, this verse is written as much for me

As for anyone else, I need to evaluate objectively

How much and what I post, the reasons why I do so

How my insecurities play into my posts, I want to know..

Many of Shakespeare’s tragedies took place

On a backdrop of fierce storms that the characters had to face

Storms heralded tumultuous change and violence

They served to make the drama more intense

Many dramatists, novelists and writers of screenplay

Use storms to create imagery to this day

*

Origin stories begin with an inundation

That wipes out the world leading to creation

Of the world that we know- storms therefore

Are for apocalyptic events metaphors

The imagery of a dark stormy night

Is perfect for creating suspense and fright..

*

However the opening line “It was a dark and stormy night” has come to be

An archetype for poor writing, apparently

A cliche that complete lack of imagination suggests

And fails to generate on its own interest..

*

With climate change and the increasing occurrence

Of floods, tornadoes, extreme weather events

More stories in the future might include

Storms as backdrops for life’s vicissitudes..

*

Dark stormy nights, thunder and lightning, torrential rains

Powerful settings for stories and plays shall remain

To strike fear and suspense in the reader’s mind

Stormy weather would always a prominent place find

Stories of so many people I have told

In my lifetime, so many lives I have let unfold

Through my words, my writing has earned acclaim

As a biographer I have in my lifetime made quite a name..

In the waning years of my life, as I reflect

Over my rewarding career, I have come to regret

That the most important story I had to tell

Remains untold, in the recesses of my heart it does dwell..

*

I had a flair for writing and a curious interest

In the lives of others, I harnessed both best

By writing biographies, bringing alive

In my words some extraordinary lives

When I interviewed people I had the uncanny ability

To bring out their innate personality

I would write profusely as they bared it all

While I retreated to the background, like the fly on the wall

I was able to include about famous people details less well known

In a humanistic light all my subjects I had shown

My authentic style of writing biographies unnoticed did not stay

More work, accolades and awards came my way

*

I wrote about others, taking deep dives

In to what appeared to be infinitely more interesting lives

My own torments I was able to ignore

When I was writing biographies, but I cannot anymore

I have skeletons in my closet that weigh on my chest

To get rid of them before I got crushed would be best

The story that longs to emerge from my pen

Is my autobiography, and I don’t know when

I would be able to pour on paper my heart

I just know I’ve to write it, or else it would tear me apart