Archive for September 2007:

Zenith

Sky is the limit, if we persevere diligently
But do I wish to reach the sky, fly high?
No one asked me!

From way back, when I was pint sized
Working hard, achieving was in, but was it for me
No one asked me!

Flailing, floundering, swimming, floating
I passed out with not so flying colors, how so
No one asked me!

Meandering in a world, not of my making
I pass the time, biding it moment to moment, why
No one asked me!

My wishes n aspirations were of another realm
The yardsticks were not so mercernary, but
No one asked me!

Now I am neither at the zenith nor the nadir of life
I hang loose somewhere in between, am I happy?
No one asked me!

Know what you want and then go for it
With single minded zeal, what for
No one asked me!

Hard work will take you to the zenith
Would any one else care but you, I know not as
No one asked me!
“We all live under the same sky, but we don’t have the same horizon.”-    Konrad Adenaur

Therapy

She called, he answered
She visited, he was available
She spoke, he listened
She lay down, he watched
Her monologue made him nap
Amidst interjections, she went on…

He hypnotized, she dozed
He quizzed, she spoke
He laid two fingers on her pulse
Snapping them to free her from repose
Armed with insights, he loosened her
Uptight nerves, giving relief ever so slight

The caregiver then himself
Lay down feeling drained
Due to all knowledge gained
That shook him to the core
As he searched for answers
To heal and not to hurt any more

His mind drew tangents, going
In all directions and moaning
As he came up for air, groaning
The solution was not so ordinary
Need of hour was make believe surgery
Performed realistically with caring

A day was set and she was ready
He hypnotized n her pulse was steady
He assured her in her somnolent state
That all malaise would surgically abate
Then she woke up in a hospital CCU
And lo behold an actor/doctor entered on cue

Now feeling light, airy and well
Her wayward thoughts no longer dwell
On anecdotes that she needs to tell
The therapy had succeeded to quell
All fears real and imaginary and thus
She need not resort to any whistle or bell!!!

Words of comfort, skillfully administered, are the oldest therapy known to man.
-Louis Nizer

Tyranny

Without warning, it crept into her life

And the bright day darkened..
She had no inkling
The well-loved face changed color
She had no inkling
This chameleon blew hot and cold
She had no inkling
The tongue wounded and stunned
She had no inkling

She cocooned into a ball
In self preservation
She covered her face
In self preservation
She leaned out of harm’s way
In self preservation
Bewildered her mind raced
In self preservation

He stomped and fumed
Spitting vituperations
Searing her spirit and soul
Heaping ignominies
Even slapping and hitting
Leveling her self esteem
Fear welled inside
Her back was against the wall

She had to find succor
She had to flee this stranger
She had to overcome fear
She had to find a safe haven
She had to find inner strength
She had to find her feet
Swiftly and quickly dashing
Out of harm’s way!
“The face of tyranny is always mild at first.”  -Racine, Britannicus, 1669
“Of all the tyrannies on human kind, the worst is that which persecutes the mind”
-John Dryden, The Hind and the Panther, 1687

The King

The throne fell in his lap at age sixteen
His body was tall, muscular and lean
His head was well shaped even in the teens
His carriage n demeanor bespoke his royal genes

He had an equal measure of solemnity and gaiety
So all his hangers on had to come up with things witty
He did not suffer fools gladly n dismissed them in a jiffy
His royal courts were full of entertainment and sobriety

Once a month he went to the nearby forest for a jaunt
Chasing a sleeping tiger or a lion or even a tiny fawn
The pickings were abundant but often quite scant
But that did not faze him as he took life on a slant

On his next foray he saw an old man seated under an oak
Who did not bow or blink upon seeing his royal cloak
But stroked the bonfire in front with a gentle poke
His highness was mystified at this silent rebuke

He got off his horse and bowed towards the old man
Asking him for words of wisdom with his face wan
The old man said he too was once a king with great élan
But realized its futility as he had no control over his life span

So he gave it all up and sought answers in the jungle
Not worrying a bit about his riches n consequent bungle
Just pondering upon life and its great mystery and the tussle
Between life n death and the struggle to put the mind in a muzzle

It was an uphill and a hard task that he had set upon himself
As the mind was like a slippery eel darting about in the reef
To spike it required an enormous strength of will was his belief
Otherwise one continued struggling haplessly and acquired only grief!

And with these few words he fell back into his silent reverie!

“Once the game is over, the king and the pawn go back into the same box.”–Italian Proverb

The Leather Coat

Little horrors lurk in the deep recesses of my mind
Curled into tight balls and shoved into the innermost
The remotest and out of reach corners of my conscious self
Banished into sweet oblivion speeded by instant amnesia.

Coming of age is pregnant with new dangers of coping
Afraid of falling on my face I flail my hands frantically
Seeking past yardsticks to help maintain my equanimity
And unfurl and uncurl those tight balls of hurts one by one

Time of reckoning has come and these have to be dealt with,
Faced and accepted and then let bygones be bygones
Thus building a bridge to deal with present problems
With great aplomb and without hiding behind a shrink!

Coming to terms with myself makes me light headed
Frees my spirit and I am full of joy and bonhomie
Now nothing can get me down as my self-awareness
Has freed me from the slavery of self-pity and cowardice

I am what I am with all the frailties and imperfections
I am the unique me who can improve what is possible and
Accept what cannot be changed like my origin, my color and
My creed and learn to live in this body n this spirit with joy.

My outer leather coat is just an outer cover over my inner coat
It’s a color so true, unmarred by pink overtones of shame
Discoloring it — now after coming to terms with myself
I wear my skin comfortably, proud to be what I already am, ME!!!

“Pride makes some men ridiculous but prevents others from becoming so.”
-Charles Caleb Colton

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