Passion…unbridled

(This poem more appropriately represents my American born child’s thoughts- I am the first generation immigrant)

Even when they talk about kindness to self, the pressure is there

Relentless; something of which you are constantly aware

You know the American Dream you have to embody

You know successful in traditional terms is the only way to be

Anything that deviates from that self-inflicted stereotype

Is disdainful, you just have to live up to the hype

Of a hard-working, academically brilliant science nerd

You have to be in the race, be seen and heard

Overt pushes and subtle nudges all combine

To direct you towards a well-trod path, so you can shine…

*

The baggage of immigration gets passed down to you

The dreams of your parents you feel like you have to carry through

Burdened with the weight of the struggles they faced

You yourself struggle to find your unique place

The American Dream was not meant to be

As restrictive as for you it has turned out to be…

*

So you protest at times, but boundaries you respect

You’ve learnt to live within constraints, and this aspect

Leads you to success despite all your doubts

Under the pressure you could have done without

Let me wring them out from inside me

Hang them to dry unabashedly

All the monsters of self-doubt

The negative self-talk I can do without

Let me extract them from where they reside

Deep in my psyche, where I have internalized

All the admonitions and interruptions- that I hear

That hold me back from action, keep me rooted in fear

Many should-not(s), cannot(s) and would-not(s) need to be

Banished from my playbook completely

Let me cleanse my spirit of all of these

With a clean slate, I shall do what I please

Why is it that the most authentic story that dwells

Within you is often the hardest to tell

*

All of us weave stories to make sense

Of the world around us that we experience

We blend the truth with our perception

And this leads to the inception

Of the many stories we conjure

To narrate to the world, that’s how we endure

The many challenges that life throws our way

Allowing us to express what we’d like to say

*

Sometimes a painful experience is so intense

That speaking of it causes distress immense

There is a story here that remains caged inside

That is the story that should not hide

Behind the veils of judgment or shame

It begs to be told, it burns like a flame

Scorching you from inside as you attempt

To keep it from external ears exempt

*

The story that is the hardest to articulate

Is the one most authentic, the one you must narrate

For yourself- so that a different perspective you can gain

For the world- so that people understand others’ pain

I start expressing my thoughts, then check again

Are these thoughts truly mine or do they represent ideas ingrained

Deep within by the society I grew up in

With all its biases that I no longer believe in

When I examine issues in greater depth I can see

That I have no reason to trust stereotypes perpetrated by society

But if I do not make an effort to question my views

Consciously or subconsciously I remain biased too

*

It’s easy to accept what you’ve heard throughout

If you don’t think about it, you have no reason to doubt

Things that on the surface appear to be true

Thus centuries of biases get passed down to you..

*

To eliminate biases from my thoughts I need

To make conscious and sustained efforts indeed

To gather objective information, examine it and come to

My less biased conclusions- this is what I resolve to do

Creative juices seem to flow invariably

When I have no time to act on them, you see

When I have ideas, there is no opportunity to save them anywhere

From my short-term memory they drift away, leaving me unaware

That they would not be retrievable on demand

My memory is unreliable, I’ve come to understand

When I sit down uninterrupted at a time allocated separately

For creative endeavors, I face a mental block inevitably

I cannot recall the ideas that had seemed bright

Staring into empty space, a thought vacuum I fight

Until I give up in frustration, having spent

Precious hours in futility, I cannot help but resent

The unpredictable flow of creativity that requires

The luxury of idle time to get inspired..

*

Sometimes I am blessed with an unexpected burst of creativity

And I am able to act on that golden opportunity

To create something of artistic merit (hopefully)

The exercise never fails to rejuvenate me

A promise to myself I make

That if, in the future, I break

If I shatter into pieces myriad

If I end up hurting bad

From life’s vicissitudes-

I shall carry a sliver of gratitude

That would be the powdered gold

Allowing myself to mold

Broken parts of me into whole

Embrace my newly repaired soul

Of all the lessons I should have learnt and did not

The foremost is the ability to say no without a second thought

When saying yes encroaches on my time, resources and liberty

I should be able to say no without feeling guilty

Without coming up with excuses or explanations

That would sound forced and pathetic to anyone

Without feeling selfish or thinking I’ve let someone down

Without thinking of the various ways I could have worked around

My schedule to fit the needs of the person who asked

Without revisiting my decision after refusing the task..

*

When I say “No” to something that infringes on my rights

I am being kind to myself by keeping my well-being in sight

I should not have to explain further once I say

No, which is a complete sentence anyway

Excessive workload has left my soul destroyed

In a desperate search for something to fill the void

As social media posts I mindlessly scroll through

Against better judgment I get swept into

Meaningless debates, trolling, hateful comments and more

People tearing strangers apart more viciously than before

I was looking to soothe myself, instead I find

I have managed to further distress my mind

Even when from my device I move away

The discomfort caused by such toxicity does stay

In my mind, making it difficult to focus or relax

Scrolling through social media has exacted a heavy tax..

*

Once again I remind myself that the better alternative would be

To stay away from social media, especially

When I am tired, sad or indisposed in any way

Tuck myself in bed and sleep my blues away

When I hear about book bans, I find myself scratching my head

Are we sauntering towards the dark ages instead

Of moving forward into the future, we’re going back at an accelerated pace

How can the freedom to read something not have a place

In a democracy, in the land of the free

In this day and age, where the world can at your fingertips be

How do we let some people’s biases decide

Which books to display and which ones to hide

From public eyes by restricting their access in libraries

Do they really think the readership of banned books would decrease?

If one wants to read, there are many ways

To procure any book anywhere these days

Efforts to ban books just seek to further divide

People divided by their ideologies worldwide..

*

Books are meant to broaden our views

Let readers retain their right to choose

A censored book is a voice silenced indeed

Silencing diverse voices is the last thing we need

Of all the things that social media has influenced

I think the change most drastic, most intense

Is in how ourselves we view- because we inadvertently compare

Our mundane daily selves to unrealistic pictures, unaware

Of the photography tricks and filters used to present

Stunning pictures with the sole intent

Of getting more views, to boost an ego

Or make money, or both, and although the truth we know

We are sucked into this universe of make-believe

And that elusive perfection we want to achieve..

*

So instead of enjoying ourselves in the moment

We snap pictures, and modify them to present

Ourselves and our surroundings in the best possible light

What everyone is doing appears to be right

Self-actualization is achieved these days

By social media recognition, in devious ways

I have worked hard, received a stellar education

I am enthusiastic about my vocation

I am ambitious, I want to take

My career to greater heights, I want to make

The best of my education and training, I do

My determination and hard work should carry me through..

*

But wait, mid-thirties I have reached now

I want to start a family, but the contemplation of how

I accomplish this while keeping my career growth in view

Gives me serious stress, straining me in multiple ways too..

After help from science and prayers I finally conceive

I would work through pregnancy, take a short break, I believe

And be back at my workplace, in my previous capacity

Little do I know what destiny has planned for me…

*

After the ordeal of a difficult pregnancy and childbirth

I am forced to take a break from work, of course my family is worth

All the sacrifices at workplace I have to make

Once I go back, much effort it should not take

For me to get into the groove, do what I used to do

Turns out here I am totally off the mark too

*

When I try to return, my break from work is viewed as a flaw

As if by having a child I have broken a law

I find work with great difficulty, in a much lower capacity

Moving ahead in my career is a distant dream for me

Work dinners and travel are not in the cards

With a baby, though I am working twice as hard

Thus all opportunities for promotion are denied to me

I still brave snide remarks on not making work my foremost priority..

*

The workplace remains a place for men

As women we are tired of asking when

Between raising a family and building a career we would not

Have to choose, not have to put in that much thought

Into synchronizing biological clocks with career development

And still suffer discrimination, criticism and judgment

We are expected to work as if we have no family

Society expects us to mother and never take our careers seriously

Caught in between expectations, overworked we remain

We have to find a better solution than going through all this pain!

I’m measuring my life, I fear

In terms of boxes that appear

To have been created by people around me

I have been checking them off diligently..

Educational qualifications, career goals, material possessions

Vacations, hobbies, leisure activities- in true confession

Are guided by the narrow boxes designed

By the society keeping averages in mind

But if I keep measuring my success

By boxes checked off, how would I truly progress

In life, when copying others is all I seem to do

I am not being original or authentic, it’s true..

*

Let me forget all boxes and bucket lists for now

And clear some space in my head to allow

Free movement of ideas that are authentic to me

Let my successes (and failures) be rooted in originality