Passion…unbridled

We all have been sold this myth somehow

That taking a vacation would allow

Us to refresh, rejuvenate and return

With renewed vigor, eager to burn

Recharged energy at the workplace

Challenges we would be raring to face

*

This is as far from the truth as can be

After coming back from vacation, at least for me

I return physically but my mind does not

Accompany me back, it is lost in thoughts

Of paradise that I have left behind

When I return to my desk I find

That I dislike my job more than ever

If only I could have come back never

To my boring workplace, I would be

A much happier version of me..

The contrast between work and vacation

Widens immeasurably in my estimation

I want to get away from work once more

With greater urgency than I did before

*

It takes a few days for the intoxication

Brought about by my amazing vacation

To get out of my system, until then I drag my feet

To complete small tasks at work seems a major feat

Post-vacation instead of being an energizer bunny

I trudge through work like an overfed zombie…

Snobbery in society is quite prevalent

To discuss one kind of snobbery is my intent

Not to offend any feelings because I suspect I could be

A snob of the same kind, you see

I am talking about book lovers who can quite elitist be

About their taste in books, easy reads are not their cups of tea

They delve in highbrow literature, writing so complex

That one has to spend hours and brain power to process

What is written- if a book is straightforward to comprehend

It is not worth reading, they would never recommend

Racy thrillers and paperbacks that millions read

More sophisticated intellectual books they need

To display to the world their degree of erudition

They seek out large volumes and rare editions

And dominate any conversation (or steer it towards)

Books that they wax eloquent about in superlative words

*

As a bibliophile who seriously reads

At times when a boost my ego needs

Of being a book snob I have been guilty

Showing anyone who would care to see

How many “literary” books I have read

But before the arrogance can lodge in my head

I usually meet someone better read than me

And that stops in its tracks my snobbery

While authenticity is seemingly a topic hot

True authenticity is increasingly hard to spot

*

While hashtags scream “be yourself” everywhere

All the content that with the world people share

Is carefully constructed to display positivity

Airbrushed and filtered, arranged skillfully

To give everything a hopeful twist

A complex narrative narrowed down to a gist

That is overly simplistic, promising the one hack

That can make up for everything you lack

*

No matter how authentic you want to be

You still want that the world should see

The most palatable aspects of you

Real life is always messy, it’s true

To be truly authentic you would need to reveal

How in your worst moments you feel

*

As I write these lines, I have this thought

Perhaps authenticity is hard because we’re not

Meant to share everything with the world as we do

Our true selves are meant to be revealed to people few…

*

On an authenticity scale of one to ten

I rate myself quite highly but then

The worst of me under wraps I still

keep

My true authenticity is still buried deep

*

In parting, when ChatGPT tries to replace what I do

I shall need my authenticity to carry me through

(This artwork is authentic- the proportions are all off!)

It takes courage to admit you do not know

Rather than feigning confidence to show

That you are in control when you are screaming inside

Afraid of your ignorance and wishing to hide

Projecting false confidence works to some extent

But the eventual solution to your predicament

Is to actually learn what you do not know

Do an internet search or to a mentor you go

Acknowledge gracefully your ignorance

Giving up your false pretense

I know it may be perceived as a weakness

But by bluffing you cannot achieve success

In-depth learning has no substitute-

This is a fact you cannot refute

Patience is a virtue I cannot claim

My impulsivity is hard to tame

Caught in a situation less than ideal for me

I want to change it immediately

Waiting patiently for the right moment

Unfortunately leads to much discontent

To do nothing goes against the grain

Of my being, it tends to drive me insane

The instant gratification that comes

With modifying something to change the outcome

Is what drives me, sitting idle appears

To be a waste of precious time, I fear

That the moment would be irrevocably lost

That procrastination would come with a high cost

I want to make a decision, and move on from there

Once I’ve decided something, I try not to care

Any further about it, I do not want to spend

Further mental energy, to redirect it I intend

*

Life is messy with solutions less than perfect indeed

Despite best efforts sometimes the answers I need

Are not available immediately to me

There is nothing to do but wait, unfortunately

For all variables to be aligned in a way

That things get accomplished the right way

I get frustrated when this happens, I confess

I am learning slowly to rein in my distress

And be a little patient, because the universe has a plan

That requires me to not act right away even when I can

Passivity is hard when action is what makes you go

But sometimes you need to let things go slow…

When I talk I have a tendency

To be long-winded and wordy

Even when there’s little to say I cannot condense

What I mean into a single sentence

I am working on being more aware

Of my verbosity, choosing words with care..

*

I’m quite the opposite while writing though

My loquaciousness in writing does not show

Brevity is what I want, I am quite concise

I trim down my writing each time I revise

Why use six words when two would be

Enough to capture the gist completely

*

I am trying to find the reason for this difference

I am trained to write in scientific terminology, hence

I have learnt to write within word limits and constraints

Perhaps that explains my brevity and restraint

When I write- whereas when something similar I say

I want it to be interesting, so I embellish it my way

*

Neither too succinct nor too verbose

The gap between speaking and writing I try to close

Using fewer words to express

A thought is better than using excess

(Just two days ago I wrote about being vulnerable to explore my creative side. That was the first time I encountered vulnerability in a book on art. Since then I have read it in reference to writing a memoir, heard about it in a song and also heard about it in a radio program about how to make friends… all in the space of 48 hours. The universe is trying to point me in a direction, and this deserves being written about.)

Sometimes I wonder why I keep stumbling across

The same theme repeatedly, my path seems to cross

With a single word or phrase expressing an emotion or a need

In whatever information I consume, in what I hear, watch or read

The last few days I have come across the word “vulnerability”

The world is telling me to let myself vulnerable be

In order to be more creative, listen better and make friends

Is there something I’m missing that the universe intends

For me, a path forward of which I am unaware?

I have been conditioned to display stoicism everywhere

I have learnt so far that being perceived as tough

Helps one wade through waters rough

With greater ease climb the ladder of success

Displaying vulnerability is an impediment to progress…

But maybe it is time to discard the facade of invincibility

Acknowledge my deepest fears, embrace my vulnerability

So that with my soul at a deeper level I connect

Create something more meaningful , listen with respect

When in communication I display my vulnerable side

People open up more, they don’t feel the need to hide

Their own vulnerabilities, thus creating a better bond

This is how new, enduring relationships are formed..

*

Four times have I encountered it in the last two days

It’s time to view vulnerability in a new way

Van Gogh was an artist par excellence

But suffered from mental illness, hence

Giving rise to the myth of a mad genius

Which is a misconception dangerous

And wildly misleading as well-

Mental illness and creativity do not dwell

Together, Van Gogh succeeded despite

His illness, not because of it, he had to fight

All his demons- illness, poverty, isolation

It was far from a conducive situation

For the generation of art that great

Few people could accomplish much in that state..

*

Most people are actually at their creative best

When their inner monsters lie dormant, at rest

To create something beautiful requires one to be

Centered, focused, contented actually

Romanticizing the notion of mad genius is

To artists and people with mental illness, a disservice

Someone would always tell her to be

This or that, give advice contradictory

Advice based on their own lens

Was for her freely dispensed

One thread was common in all that advice

She was expected to be submissive and nice

All advice expected her to conform

To society’s narrow social norms

*

She did not know what she could be

So she took all advice seriously

And actually did remarkably well

As far as anyone from a distance could tell

She became who others expected her to be

Not stopping to consider any other possibility

*

With greying hair, and the ability to ignore

The expectations of others, she wants more

For herself than she did all these years

Finally she has let go of her fears

Regarding what other people would say

She wants to turn over a new leaf in a way

She searches her soul to really find

Who she wants to be, what appeals to her mind

The answer takes her conscious self by surprise

It was buried under everything she had internalized

About who she was, it was all a lie

Now she shall claim her place under the sky

I kept pretending to be strong

I had imbibed that it was wrong

To display to the world your vulnerability

So I carefully cultivated the inability

To talk about how vulnerable I felt inside

It became such an ingrained habit to hide

My sensitivity, my weakness that I would not

Acknowledge it even in my private thoughts..

*

In the pragmatic world this worked well for me

But when I tried to rekindle my dormant creativity

I found that I could not keep up the charade

Of invulnerability around me, I had to go behind the facade

Of indomitability that I had constructed with care

To create something meaningful, I had to dare

To feel my vulnerability, that would find expression

In my amateur attempts at artistic creation

*

If I operate from a place of feigned strength, I know

The creative juices are unlikely to flow

My writing would be flat, my words lifeless Being vulnerable and honest, I confess

Was hard at the beginning but now I see

How, in writing better, it has helped me

Being open and vulnerable has bolstered my creativity

And that in turn, has made a better person out of me

“The ache for home lives in all of us. The safe place where we can go as we are and not be questioned.” Maya Angelou

When I am full of energy I want to explore

New cultures, new places, new cuisines, I want more

When things are going well I want to expand

My horizons, I have a hunger to understand

More of the world, I have the desire to be

Well-rounded, a global citizen definitely

When I feel secure in my place and my identity

I am more willing to embrace diversity..

*

When I feel insecure, hopeless, downcast

The lure of novel experiences diminishes fast

During such moments I crave the comfort of familiarity

Food, music, dance from my roots bring solace to me

*

When we are insecure, protection we need

Going back to our roots is like going home indeed

When you apply it to different societies you see

Why they embrace or reject diversity

If my ambitions I voiced out loud

I would be subject to ridicule, no doubt

For some sarcasm, myself I would brace

Snide remarks I would have to face

This is what would happen, I am afraid

If my ambitious plans before people I laid

People would misconstrue my dreams to be

Too audacious, too removed from reality

*

So I keep my outrageous dreams bottled inside

Waiting for the day I don’t have to hide

What I really want, for fear of causing discomfort

To others, while I silently continue my efforts

Towards realizing my dreams one day

The fire burns bright within me to show me the way..

*

For some folks the sky is just not enough

I may be one of those-life seems rough

Because my goals are too lofty indeed

But I am propelled by ambition, not greed