Too Much Freedom, Too Little Love

I don't need to shape you out of love, you'll eventually take my form, 

To put pressure to mold you in my image, on so many levels is wrong. 

I'm content being a positive exemplar, that perhaps you'll love and respect,  

To see you flower organically, without intervening, is my devils pact.

Being permissive is the name of the game, some may call it hands off,

I gave you the freedom to make your mind, and that's why now you scoff. 

Nothing is sacrosanct any more, neither god, nor nation, nor poor me,

Twitching to break free from the shackles, there are only fragments, no more we. 

In the end you'll fly to great new heights- love, money and fame, 

Untethered, uprooted, unapologetic, success you'll have to tame.

I live by my definition of success, being kind, loving and a good human being, 

That you are not me, your criteria not mine, is both liberating and freeing.

What should have been my greatest triumph, is my greatest failure,

By granting freedom too early, too soon, I've failed as a parent my dear.

 

Dont Leave Me Hanging

Shower me daily or pluck me now, don't leave me to whither by the wayside,  

Shape me gently with your waves, or decimate me with the power of a tide. 

Come down heavily on my poems, criticize my style, the choice of words,

Or open your heart and sing along me, the agonizing cries of the caged birds. 

Put me in a cage, or set me free, I'll know you cared, weren't insensitive rather, 

Don't stroll by pretending I don't exist, that I am someone else's concern, my brother. 

Stop and smell the roses, or trample the distractions, take a stance one way or the other,

Let the wires jut even as you feed, or let the fur-clothes make you a warm and caring mother. 

 

Take pains to avoid me or cling like a child, just don't shrug me as an irrelevant nobody, 

Hit me hard or turn the other cheek, just don't act as if I never slapped you my buddy.  

I can bear to be hated, if you can't love me, its the silent ignoring that's taking its toll, 

Fight me back when I call you a devil woman, or chasten me on calling you a living doll. 

I write sonnets for you, I paint you in black, you with equanimity have written me off,

On my antics to draw your attention again, if you cant laugh, at least, please do scoff.

Celebrating the 22nd

Celebrations are an occasion, for bonding with others around, 

Whether its Diwali or Rakshabandhan, rituals and customs abound.

Some acts are symbolic, like lighting a Diya on a no moon's night,

Others go even deeper, as by burning an effigy, you inner demon fight.

The festival may look the same, its celebrated in a million way,

The lath mar Holi of Barsana, is different from the normal colors we play.

Some are tied to the movement of the sun, like the kite playing festival of Makar sakranti, 

Others like Haldi Kumkum, though held multiple times, have limited audience, no uncles, only aunty.

Some people abhor this culture and work ethic, where festivals are spread throughout the year, 

Getting lost in celebrations is a spiritual phenomenon, there's more to life than work my dear. 

This celebration though, is unique as Ram, after hundred of years, is returning home,

Kashi and Mathura, are next in line, we're not tied to a single place, like Mecca or Rome.

If you can't join the festivities, watch from sidelines, don't denigrate the occasion by filing lawsuits, 

The Hindus have woken and are unapologetic now, though that doesn't your pseudo secular narrative suits.

Praying for my Professions Death

When is the doctor happiest, when a disease outbreak occurs,

And the prospect of many clients, makes him fill his coffers.

Or is that the saddest day, as he's overwhelmed, with work and compassion,

And the realization dawns, that the Hippocratic oath, is still not out of fashion.   

When is an entrepreneur happiest, when he discovers real pain points,

And comes up with a pain killer, not a vitamin that one superficially anoints.

Does he secretly pray that the opportunity, and the structural issues remain, 

Is he happy applying the balm, or does he dare to cure from the root the pain. 

When is a psychologist happiest, when people around are anxious and depressed,  

Its good for business as long as, the need for therapy on them is pressed.

Or does he rather wish and plan, that the client stops the treatment fast, 

That he loses a client as soon as possible, the dependency on him doesn't last. 

I'm ecstatic that the students, will be happy and less stressed now,

I may starve to death, but I won't be one of those milking the cow.

Driven And Defeated

Dejected on multiple fronts, defeated on all but one,

I was sure that I had lost the battles, but the war I had won. 

I was still the same old person, who aimed to be a good human being,

But now that I have set my sights high, it seems from myself I am fleeing. 

Once it wasn't important to win, but to play fair was paramount, 

Now that I have upped the ante, its only success that will count. 

A march closer to the noble aim, absolves me of all my sin, 

I no longer claim 'goodness', I can hide behind a sheepish grin.  

Ends never justify the means, I know as the gospel of truth,

By degrading myself, not others, I can still my soul soothe. 

If the end is noble enough, I'll get defeated a billion times,

Losing myself a bit each time, or losing whole- I don't give dimes. 

Earlier it was about who I am, and remaining true to myself,

The greater cause liberated me, making me lose in the goal itself. 

Never Too Late (dedicated to Paul Gauguin)

A successful stockbroker by 35, I often sell short,

When I'm sizing up people,  I let money do quick sort.

Relationships are an investment, an elaborate give and take,

I calculate costs and benefits, of relationships deep and fake. 

A sudden stock market collapse, leads me to embrace art,

I discover passion of romance, after she breaks my heart. 

Relationships are elegant, something I create,

I'm painting furiously, don't leave them to fate. 

A content artist at 50, I retire in Tahiti isles,

A simple and idyllic life, with only natives for miles. 

Relationships just happen, there's no drive or plan,

I welcome all like the sun, along with the burns and tan. 

You can learn to value relationships, its never too late,

Programmer, psychologist, philosopher are passe, let me as a poet create.

 

Good and Bad

Humans are basically all good, what is bad is out there,

The unpredictable forces of nature - cyclone forming out of air.

The ferocious predators, the demons lurking beneath, 

Anything fearsome and loathsome- is evil underneath.

All members of this tribe are good, the outsiders evil and bad, 

We look out for each other, but on encountering others see red.

God created in his image, the people of my tribe, 

The devil lured the infidels, they should suffer for their crime. 

All my family and friends are good, with others I have to be cautious,

I can trust my family blindly, but dealing with others makes me nauseous. 

Within a family we share freely, act like generous Devs,

Outside our clan its dog-eats-dog,  a battle with the haves. 

Good and bad are not outside, they are both within me,

We create the world in our image, so let us good Gods be!

Wu Wei

A lazy Sunday afternoon, doing nothing at all,

Being just content and happy- is an order tall. 

There are mountains to climb, there are goals to conquer,

That I'm wasting precious moments- to me it doesn't occur. 

As long as there is a world, men of action there will be,

I don't buy the hustle culture, time doesn't bind me-I'm free.

I prefer to keep it simple, living one day at a  time,

To plan and scheme and try to control, to me seems a crime. 

 

I let nature decide my course, I go with the flow,

I prefer spontaneous outpourings, and dancing real slow.

I don't try to change my brothers, or even to self improve,

I accept that I'm imperfect, I have nothing to prove.

'Don't do evil' trumps being good, I know this for a fact,

After mastering how to not react, I'm now learning how to not act. 

Moral Decline

All around us are people, who decayed morally as they grew,

Each new generation birthed monsters, and heroes left were few.

Extreme cases of altruism, or heinous deeds are far and few, 

But everyday morality is declining- that much we know for true.

For ages we have been witnessing, the slippery slide into the Kal Yug,

And how our childhood was pristine, an unblemished Sat Yug. 

The teachers back then were kinder, they hit us out of care and love,

We misremember hawkish people, all around us were just peaceful dove.

Objectively speaking world is better now, less violence, no slavery, 

However the perceived state of affairs, most find lacking and unsavory. 

Maybe their expectations have risen, they won't settle for less,  

If it goads people to change for better- not a bad situation, I guess.

Whether the moral decline is real or imaginary, it doesn't really matter much, 

As long as it pushes us to prove otherwise - that's all that matters, as such.

Down, Not out

It barely pays the bills, doesn't pay for my dreams,

I'm a cog in the wheel, the 'I' lost in the teams. 

I'm a means to an end, the job by itself supreme,  

To support my family, I'm drawn in this scheme.  

The relationships crumble, as I get things done,

Colleagues are a plenty, friends there are none.  

Work brings out the dark side, makes you scream, 

It eats you from within, as you let out some steam. 

The work is same as ever, monotonous and dull, 

No challenges to overcome, no storm after the lull.

You remain stagnated for years, others zoom ahead,

Not growing on a daily basis, you are as good as dead.

I've been robbed of everything, I'm down but not out, 

As long as I find meaning, I'll rise up after every bout.

Mono No Aware

As the day comes to an end, I wistfully look back -

- When I chatted with you, and of time I lost track.

During the day I'm deluded, night jolts me awake,

That our relationship is budding, is superficial and fake. 

As the month comes to an end, I heave a sigh of relief,

That I've known you somewhat, no matter how brief.

'Some notes we exchanged, some paths we walked together,

I'm glad you came in my life, we became friends all-weather.'

As the year comes to an end, I feel the pain in my heart, 

I couldn't make you mine, only capture in my art.

Like all good things, this wasn't supposed to last,

There's no future 'we', just ghosts of past.

You may write me off and move on, but this too shall pass,

If I fail you in this lifetime, I'll be born again until you let me pass.

HNY 2024

As you celebrate the future, make peace with the past,

As the former materializes, the latter evaporates fast.

In the abyss of old memories, its easy to dump an year,  

The traces decay quickly, for even things you hold dear. 

Why remember the night, when a new day has dawned,

This year will be different, unlike the earlier one spawned. 

The last year was a mixed bag- of sorrow and joy,

This year is full of promise, will be special, oh boy!

 

The wishes that things will be better, keep your heart warm,

All around are wishing peace and calm, not tempests or storm. 

Yet the growth that happened last year, was accompanied by pain,  

So instead of no adversity, I wish that you courage and resilience gain.

 

I wish you all the happiness, but not on the cost of your growth, 

That I'll be there to help you face your cross, is my solemn oath.