Passion…unbridled

I do not consider myself especially observant

I seem to notice things around me to a limited extent

I definitely do not keep my eyes and ears open that wide

I am mostly lost in the thoughts I harbor inside..

*

I would say (at the risk of sounding like I’m bragging)

One area in which my observation powers are not lagging

Is in my work as a physician, quite perceptive I seem to be

I can recognize subtle signs of illness and injury

Pick up clues that many seem to miss

Many seemingly irrelevant details I don’t dismiss

*

If only I were as observant elsewhere

I would find inspiration to write stories I could share

With the world- a tale I would weave

Around an anecdote, I certainly believe

That great authors have amazing perception indeed

To build a story a vignette is all they need..

Soon it may be possible to immortalize

A human being after death, to memorialize

Their unique personality and traits

To interact with their video image that AI would generate

To hear their voice, get their advice..

What exactly would be the price

Of keeping someone in memories in this unnatural way

Would the grief of losing them go away?

Or would it prolong attachment to someone

Who no longer exists as a flesh and blood person

Would this not be a form of deception?

I am curious to know about the reception

Of this warped idea by ethicists everywhere

Of the dangers of AI as we become more aware

Limits shall need to be enforced such that the lines

Of morality stay sharply defined…

*

Many people would like the idea of being able to provide

Comfort to their loved ones after they pass, to guide

Their younger generations if they cannot be there

For someone with a devastating illness where life already seems unfair

This would be a practical way to soften the blow

Of their untimely death, to let their near and dear ones know

That a part of who they were would outlive

Them in a manner much more interactive

Their “avatar” would reflect their world view

Talk and give advice life they would have too..

*

For a child about to lose his parent too soon

This capability could be interpreted as a boon

To have the ability to talk to and get valuable advice

From a parental figure would be nice..

*

There is no black and white answer here

While the technology has some merit, I fear

For its misuse, there is huge potential

And therein lies the dilemma existential..

What constitutes “good writing”, how is it defined

This question surfaces repeatedly in my mind

I read quite avidly, and the books that I like more

Usually have a compelling story at their core

A story with a definite beginning and an end

A book that tells you clearly what the author did intend

To convey to the world- I do not like books that take you

Through a bewildering maze of tangential subplots without trying to

Tie all ends together or have a unifying theme

I appreciate books less if disjointed the plot seems…

*

Does the complexity of language matter in

Determining if a piece is well-written?

Sometimes the language is beautiful and evocative

But often the reader is unable to give

Adequate attention to the story, language steals the limelight

But great language cannot make a poorly- constructed plot look right..

*

In my humble opinion good writing should be

Straightforward in language, with a great story told authentically

Water bodies are relaxing to be around, we know intuitively

But staring at water can also be a form of therapy

A few minutes of looking at a river, lake or sea

Can drop your stress levels, provide tranquility

*

Instinctively we seek places with water in sight

Such blue spaces are for our senses a delight

But in modern urban living where our weekdays are spent

Cooped up in cubicles, despite our best intent

We may not have access to an aquatic oasis every day

We have to identify water bodies in creative ways

*

Fortunately the benefit of staring at water can be

Achieved by staring small ponds or fountains, as the case may be

The healing power of water is profound

Based on individual experience and science sound

Water is immersive, quite literally

Therefore once again, I must go down to the sea..*

*Tribute to John Masefield’s poem Sea Fever-“I must go down to the sea again..”

Sometimes a curious dilemma I face

Recognizing in a patriarchal society my place

I do not correct men when they are clearly wrong

They are used to being right, so I go along

With what they are saying or if I really feel the need

To correct them, I try to do so very subtly indeed

I raise my point as a question, sounding unsure

As if asking them to humor me, I’ve encountered before

That if I interject boldly or point out their mistake

Often an ugly turn the conversation seems to take

Since I am subordinate to them, I stand to lose much more

That their egos are not injured, I must ensure..

*

You would say this is all in my mind

But if another man says the same thing as me, I find

It is received much more positively

Because it poses no threat to patriarchy..

*

To be a woman smarter than her peers

Sometimes like a double-edged sword appears

On the one hand, women have to be twice as capable as men

To get half the credit for their work, but when

They outsmart their male colleagues they stand to lose

Therefore to dumb themselves down or stay quiet they choose..

*

To shatter glass ceilings, women will continue

And keep outsmarting men too..

I straddle between two worlds, sometimes I get tired

Of switching from one to the other, from inherent to acquired

I don’t belong to either one now

I am a chameleon changing colors to allow

Myself to blend in seamlessly with the crowd

It’s difficult to proclaim my identity out loud-

A hyphenated identity, a confused amalgam

Of values both Indian and American..

*

I am not in rare company, I know

There are many others like me, although

Each one of us is an alloy in proportions different

Many of us are confused to some extent

Before parents and relatives we channel Indian traits

At an individual level we find it difficult to create

Identities for ourselves beyond what people expect

Who we truly are, sometimes we struggle to accept..

*

There is a silver lining to this dark cloud

We have the immigrant ethic, but we stand proud

Representing all the values that have made America great

The best of both worlds in our work we amalgamate

*

Let me now frame this identity in a way

That is more positive- this is what I would say

Being Indian-American should be a matter of pride

Straddling between east and west, we represent the world wide!

The otherworldliness of fantasy books

Attractive to many readers looks

The quintessential fight between evil and good

Fits better in a make-believe world than it would

In a story set in the real world full of cynicism

While in a world full of magic, sorcery and mysticism

The writer is unfettered in his craft, he has free reign

To take the story in different directions, unconstrained

By the limits of space, time or plausibility

No one can question the credibility

Of a world dystopian or phantasmagorical

That allows readers to escape the world real..

*

I am a voracious reader but I do not endorse

The fantasy genre of books because

To escape to an alternate reality is not

For me, an interesting or intriguing thought

Strange creatures and dystopian universes I find

Too morbid and disturbing for my mind..

*

I gloss over the fantasy books that my child reads

To immerse myself in stories set in the real world I proceed

Tell me a story in an interesting way

Through a series of paintings or photographs that say

A lot more than words alone would

Tell me a story that is extraordinarily good

Through dance and drama, through pantomime or puppetry

Narrate a story, in prose or poetry

Merge artistic and literary techniques to create

A feast for the senses, a composition that elevates

A straightforward story into something more sublime

That remains relevant through the passage of time…

*

Tell me a story age-old in an innovative way

Tell me a story that in my heart would forever stay

It is stressful to participate in contests

Where under pressure you have to give it your best

Not all of us can stomach being that competitive

Therefore sometimes vicariously we try to live

Watching games and contests of various kinds

Rooting for the teams and contestants, we find

Our stress levels rising in nervous anticipation

We may bite out nails, close our eyes momentarily in trepidation

We jump out of our seats at a win and rejoice

Or utter sighs or even expletives of our choice

When those we are cheering for lose, especially in a nail-biting contest

We feel the heat of competition without going through the test…

*

Each time I watch a game on the television (or live)

I cannot help but admire the ambition and drive

Of those who are competing, they must be made of sterner stuff

To repeatedly subject oneself to such pressure seems quite tough

*

I’d rather stay away from competition than face

The stress of being pitted against someone face to face

Therefore I am just a spectator who can easily proclaim

May the best player or team win the game!

A writing retreat sounds like a wonderful opportunity

To get away from the grind, away from the cacophony

Of daily life to a tranquil and picturesque place

Where immersed in the lap of nature, you slow down your pace

Let yourself by your surroundings be inspired

Get your creative juices flowing, get your imagination fired

Finally begin the writing project that has been relegated

To the back of your mind, the nebulous outline you had previously created

Gets a chance to develop further, take a shape concrete

You dream of leaving the retreat with your first draft complete..

*

I think of dark mountains and misty woods

That could inspire a mystery, or quaint seaside towns that would

Serve as the setting for a summer romance with a twist

Or a remote area inspiring a thriller- I go down the list

Dreaming about what I would write in each kind of place

The vibe of the retreat location I would in my writing embrace..

*

How nice it would be if I could actually go

To such a retreat and let my creativity flow

But much as I love to write, I have a traveler’s mindset too

And if I were in a picturesque place, sightseeing is what I would do

I would probably get new ideas but not find

The time to actually write what is in my mind..

*

My writing retreat is the hour at the end of the day

When curled in my own corner, I jot down ideas that come my way…

(This is an odd one- I asked my son to give me an idea for a poem and he asked me to write one from the perspective of a tree)

If I were a plant I would need to be

Extremely ingenious to compensate for my lack of mobility

Sophisticated communication strategies I would have to devise

Instead of being able to use nose, mouth and eyes

Towards light I would know to gravitate

I would recognize when my nectar touched an insect’s palate

Being literally grounded, I would always remain

Down to earth, even when my branches reached heights insane..

*

From a vantage point everything I would witness

Heat, dust and storms I would weather, mostly with success

By undergoing transformation from within

I would stick to Mother earth through thick and thin..

*

I would not travel but my seeds would be scattered elsewhere

Moving creatures might transport me everywhere

Where planted, I would spread my roots

Grow skyward to bestow on the world my fruits

Aching muscles, creaking joints, the annoying inability

To stay up past midnight, the easy fatiguability

Those lapses in memory, barely perceptible but still there

The creeping pounds, rising blood pressure, and greying hair

All declaring the march of time incessant

You know your body is growing senescent

*

Confidence in your skill-set, and a sense of pride

In your achievements, the ability to take in your stride

Both success and failure, losses and gains

Growing old but you are past all the pains

Of youth- with equanimity challenges you face

Age is on your side, you have carved your own space