Passion…unbridled

Facing writer’s block, I began to search for poetry prompts online

I found the usual suggestions, to write about none of which I was inclined

Until an out of the box idea caught my attention-

Writing a poem on a mathematical concept was mentioned..

*

The most fascinating concept in mathematics I’ve found

Is dividing a number by zero, this is an operation that can shut down

A computer application, because the answer is infinity

And infinities intrigue me infinitely..

*

Not being able to define something leaves humans dissatisfied

So mathematicians have found ways to demystify

The concept of infinity by inventing limits

If a number “x” large enough to approach infinity exists

Then 1/x approaches the value zero, and now

We have defined undefinable concepts somehow!

*

Mathematics was a subject both respected and feared

Nowadays mathematical concepts in my life infrequently appear

That writing a poem one day would allow me to revise

A mathematical concept came as a big surprise..

They speak in a language so foreign that you have not

Even heard of its existence, this is a language they have brought

With them from their ancestral village, it is amazing to see

That only a handful of people speak it fluently

It is like having a code language to communicate with family and friends

To preserve their dying language they intend

Centuries of colonial domination had led them to replace

Their mother tongue with the lingua franca of the masters, now that language does face

The threat of extinction, as native speakers are few

But to keep it alive, they are doing everything they can do

*

In a lively post-dinner gathering you witness

People from their community trying to express

Themselves in the language that has been swept aside

You sense in the elders an unmistakable pride

At passing down valuable cultural currency to their offsprings

They are determined to face the challenges this endeavor brings

They are writing down songs and stories for future generations to read

For some of them, keeping their language alive is a divine calling indeed

*

There are merits to using the same language in a world globalized

But the importance of linguistic diversity should be recognized

To save animal and plant species from extinction we strive

Similarly we should keep linguistic diversity alive

*

Let no language be sacrificed at the hands of colonial domination

I applaud those involved in linguistic preservation

I’ve read that if there is a book you really want to read

But that book does not exist, then you need

To write it yourself, because your desire to read this book

Reflects the story hidden within you, that’s where you need to look

No one else wants to tell the story as much as you do

So you must claim the story and bring it into existence too

*

I have not found books centered around characters like me

Those with lives that are straightforward and ordinary

Those who follow rules- perhaps it is hard to spin a narrative

Around a person who an average, middle-class life lives

*

Someday I would like to write about someone like me

Who experiences challenges fictitious but extraordinary

Maybe that’s the book I am carrying inside

When that story I am no longer able to hide

I hope to write it down, for someone to see

Perhaps that book would be my legacy..

Something was deeply wrong, she intuitively knew

Several illnesses and surgeries she had gone through

But pain this profound she could not recall

She could not get comfortable at all

She was lying on the gurney writhing with pain

She was anxious, calm and collected she could not remain

She knew she was being viewed with suspicion

Of being a seeker of pain medication

A toxicology screen on her they would run

For every street drug under the sun

She had nothing to fear, once a negative report they received

Her symptoms they would be more likely to believe

She knew this from working for years in healthcare

Of both realities and biases she was quite aware

*

Hours passed, her pain was not relieved

Her drug screen was negative, but it appeared they believed

That she was just being dramatic, her complaints were not taken seriously

Quite minimal her diagnostic work-up and treatment seemed to be

*

It was already morning, she had a fitful night

A new team member was at the bedside, she expressed that something was not right

This time her complaint rang an alarm bell

What was actually wrong, the healthcare professional could not quite tell

But she was sent for urgent testing, and a diagnosis was obtained

There was a sinister condition responsible for her pain

*

From that point onwards, the medical team was galvanized

Into a flurry of activity, even before she realized

What was going on, they were asking for her consent

To take her for a major operation emergent

*

She survived and made a full recovery

She is grateful to the person who took her pain seriously

She is an now advocate for women everywhere

To address the pain bias prevalent in healthcare

You’re supposed to climb the ladder continuously

Choosing to step down would be a move cowardly

Everyone aspires to go higher, why would you choose

To back off, why would you be willing to lose

Everything that you have worked hard to achieve

Do you, in the power of your success not believe?

*

She had, by every measure, built a stellar career

To the world, an epitome of success she appeared

She was climbing the ladder, shattering glass ceilings all around

But in her rarefied position, she was experiencing burnout profound

At the peak of her career she made an unexpected decision

To sacrifice ambition and step down from her position

Everyone was surprised and those questions were raised

In her decision to step down, much backlash she faced

Much of it came from other women who used to see

Her as a role model to follow, unfortunately

*

Over her decision she repeatedly agonized

But once she went through with it she realized

That the weight she had been carrying around had been lifted

The focus of her life had now shifted

From chasing an idea of success to being comfortable in her skin

Maybe the world saw it differently, but for her it was a win

*

If you can climb up, you can climb down too

As long as to yourself you stay true..

Whenever I am about to go on vacation

The most exciting part is the anticipation

Of books to read- not just the travel plans

Before my trip, I go to the library or a bookstore to scan

New releases that would take a while to read

To accompany me on long hours of travel I need

Substantial books that can draw me in

I stay away from books that are thin

And go for those with page counts on the higher side

With the aim of getting lost inside

The pages of a complex, well-written plot

Or a non-fiction book that gives me food for thought

*

Memories of my trips include not just places, but books read along the way

I am ready to embark on a trip with a book in hand any day

Travel and reading are almost Pavolvian associations for me

And for a successful vacation both are necessary

I can barely make sense of what happened today

I went to work not knowing things were headed this way

The keyboard is probably still grimy from my touch

Why I was let go, I do not understand much..

Or, not at all- it was only a few weeks ago

That I had finally started to grow

In my career, and now I have joined the ranks

Of the unemployed, I can only thank

My stars that I have some savings stashed away

Meant to carry me through a rainy day..

*

I finished my college degree with a substantial loan

And in the world of job-seekers I was thrown

On that battlefield I still remain

Enduring day after day the excruciating pain

Of rejection from yet another organization

It seems my degree has little application

In the real world- but I still have bills to pay The student loan also looms over my head every day

*

I tried hard to find a job that would be commensurate

With my educational qualifications, but fate

A different plan for me had deployed

I have a job, but I am underemployed

I get paid, but it barely covers the bills

I am looking for a better position still

*

Different stories, different paths that have now converged

In the depths of unemployment and despair we are now submerged

Looking for jobs is the hardest thing we have done

We cannot give up, we’ve just begun

I came across this French phrase today

It resonated with me in a profound way

It refers to the “inner shelf”, the library we all carry inside

Where all the stories that have shaped us reside

Quotes that touched me, excerpts of books that I read

All the irrelevant details that got stuck in my head

A collection of memories brimming with emotions

My unwavering beliefs and unyielding notions-

All of them inhabit this inner library of mine

Who I was in the past, and who I am now, they define

**

From my inner shelf I hope to draw inspiration

And write something that is a representation

Of my unique journey, my lived experience

Weave a new story borrowing from this treasure immense..

*

This exotic sounding phrase is a reminder to me

That my inner shelf has the tools to propel my creativity

Is it true or is it my flawed perception here

But I have noticed in the past few years

A steady deterioration of quality

In pretty much everything around me..

*

I wonder if we as a society are allowing our standards to fall

Does the quality of what we produce not matter at all

Research, news articles, material goods, education

In every sphere I see a gradual deterioration

In our capabilities, do we no longer believe

Our very best do we not want to achieve?

*

I worry once lower standards become the norm

Lower would be the pressure on us to conform

To the higher standards established before

And quality would deteriorate more

*

The global pandemic was a good excuse

For reduction in quality, but it can no longer be used

To continue producing work that is subpar

Instead of letting standards slide, we need to raise the bar..

*

This is a reminder to myself that I should not let

The quality of my work suffer, lower standards I should not accept…

I have always wondered if writing can be taught

On taking a formal writing course, I have entertained the thought

But the idea of being tied down with rules is daunting to me

I know saying this sounds like brazen audacity

I am not a writer, or a poet, just someone who loves to write

Without adhering to rules or guidelines, just jotting down what feels right

*

If someone gave me feedback, I am afraid I would not take

Kindly to the advice, I would hesitate to make

Changes to my writing, in style or content

To alter my voice I would be reluctant

*

It has taken me long to find my authentic voice

And longer to use it in the midst of ambient noise

I don’t want to lose it or let it be influenced

By anyone else, hence my reluctance..

*

Someday, when enough confidence I have gained

In my voice, when I feel my authenticity I can sustain

The craft of writing I shall try to learn from the experts

Until then I shall continue with my solo efforts

I look for ways in which time I can save

If there is an activity from which minutes I can shave

I pare down time spent on it with surgical precision

I cut off all the frills, the need to make a decision

Until I have discovered the shortest possible way

To accomplish a task, with the idea of finding more time in my day

*

One such activity I have identified

Is eating- the luxury of a leisurely meal can be sacrificed

In favor of saving precious time that can then be

Spent in activities considered necessary-

So I scarf down food as quickly as I can chew

I pack my lunch to eat on the go too

I try to do something else as I eat

Time, or the lack thereof, I’m trying to defeat

*

Unfortunately this is not how food should be consumed

In my daily calendar I should make room

To eat my meals slowly and with mindfulness

My hurried eating leads to unpleasant consequences, I confess

*

Sitting at a table with my family, giving thanks and then eating a meal

Slowly and deliberately, savoring every bite, heavenly does feel

I should remind myself to slow down and eat mindfully most days

Hopefully I shall reap its benefits in different ways..

(I recently heard a piece on NPR regarding how Ukrainian teachers and students were keeping education alive despite war, that was deeply moving. I then looked up other articles regarding the same, and even came across a journal article regarding Ukrainian teachers’ stress and coping during the war. So here I am trying to write from the perspective of a Ukrainian teacher)

“Let us solve quadratic equations today”

In a tone of fake enthusiasm I say

I scan the students’ faces on my screen

Terror, fear, boredom, anger- all of these I have seen

In their eyes, but today all of them just appear bored

I thank the stars that there is nothing more

I just hope the next forty-five minutes are free

From interruptions from sirens, air raids, missiles flying, but that seems to be

Wishful thinking these days, more often than not

Right now, teaching algebra to my class is my only thought

*

Our school has been destroyed, we conduct classes online

We have moments of normalcy, when we seem to be doing fine

But the unpredictability of war is all-pervasive

In constant fear of being bombed we live

I have had to stop teaching algebra to console

My students petrified from an air-raid- my role

Has expanded beyond teaching, the responsibility sometimes overwhelms me

As I fear for my students and my family’s safety simultaneously

*

We still make it work, my students get stellar grades

They are mature beyond their years, they have learnt to wade

Through the troubled waters of war, building resilience admirable

Education is the anchor when everything else is unstable..

Teac