Wabi Sabi

Subdued austere beauty, wrapped in a rustic patina,

A single asymmetric fin, makes you shine like a sardina. 

Imperfection gives you value, wrinkles add to your face,

You get better like a wine, as you age by God's grace.

Another year has flown by, another project remains half baked,

Another poem's unfinished, by a heart that throughout ached.

The desire for a master piece, makes you lose sight of the truth,

Nothing in this world is perfect, neither golden years nor youth.

There is beauty in simplicity, in owning flaws, in celebrating decay, 

In writing Tankas and Haikus, that let your imagination play.

If you spell out all perfectly, you can't read between the lines, 

You need to draw the reader in- not push him to sidelines.

2023 wasn't perfect, didn't last, isn't done and dusted yet, 

As you start enjoying the passage of time, the moments will last, forever, I bet.

The God Without

He resides in the temple, He resides in my heart,

He resides in my words - He graces my art. 

There are many who would say, just seek Him within,

That I stop serving Him outside - chances are thin.

I am like His servant Hanuman, can't rest till I've finished His work,

I write daily, perform duties He gave, feel His presence, as an added perk.

I regret I wasn't there when His abode, was razed, by a barbarian jerk, 

I don't use euphemisms for invaders, whether they be Mughal or Turk.  

 

What's past is past, let's look ahead, we restored the glory back,  

That a structure had to be demolished first- is part of process, not a day black. 

Now that the temple is ready in a way, and the idol will be revitalized with Ram,

Let's celebrate by emulating Him in every way- by becoming noble, serene and clam.  

Its easy to say, evolve spiritually, be modern, get rid of religions and God,  

Sorry to disappoint, but I wear on my sleeves, the Ram Nami, of my Lord.

The Giving Back Pledge

That institute received an endowment, that was staggeringly well financed,  

We should exceed, beat our previous batches, is an idea we romanced. 

We set a target for ourselves, and some started driving others hard, 

To fuel competition amongst ourselves, a leaderboard was on the card.

From each according to his stature, how well he has done in life,

For what purpose the funds are to be used, has led to an inevitable strife. 

Those who lead by dollars, putting their money where their mouth is, 

Will decide how to use this money, guaranteeing efficiency like in a biz. 

The no-strings-attached donation, is a thing of the past now, 

If you really care about the insti, you should call the shots- and how!

What 25 years of earning gap could not, 2 days of reunion did, 

WA group split on basis of who pays, so that of leeches we can get rid. 

 

When I ponder what I can give back, its neither money nor distinguished alumni fame, 

Its just that I be worthy of this institution, that it feels pride, when on it, I lay my claim.

Daily Exam

Writing consistently is hard, it should be spontaneous and fun,  

If you can make peace with the process, the battle is half won. 

The daily gruel of staring, at a mocking blank page, 

Laying yourself bare, making your nakedness a rage.

You can afford to be open and vulnerable, only once in a blue moon,

When you play with emotions day and night, you may be interned soon,

Either in a mental asylum, as a depressed poet is a probability high,  

Or in the heart of your fans and art lovers, where along the poems you snugly lie. 

It takes discipline to write daily, time is of the least concern,

What you fear is an imperfect poem, that astute readers will discern.

You write because you have to, a poet you chose to be,

The poem's an outcome of who you are, like honey from the bee.

I write for you, I write for her, I write foremost for who I am,

To be sensitive, on a daily schedule, to be true to myself- is a daily exam.

Sometimes

Sometimes you choose to be an outcast, sometimes on you that's thrust, 

Sometimes all you covet is solitude, at other times, isolation, becomes a must. 

Sometimes you break out of the ranks, sometimes they simply charge ahead,

Sometimes you easily loose your cool, at other times, they make you see red.

Sometimes the world whizzes by, sometimes you do a slow dance, 

Sometimes your sonnets reek of love, at other times you hide behind romance. 

Sometimes you don't want to fit in the box, sometimes they make it too small,

Sometimes you want your voice to echo, at other times, it reverberates because of the hall.

Sometimes you try to appease them, sometimes the pressure gets to you, 

Sometimes you create a sombre mood, at other times, you succumb to all that is blue. 

Sometimes you can't see in the mirror, sometimes what you notice is the prominent background,

Sometimes you want to jut and stick out, at other times, you are stuck in a hole that's round. 

Sometimes you write for catharsis, sometimes you let out a Freudian slip, 

Sometimes you try hard to forget her, at other times, she disappears in a blip.

Welcome Mail

Welcome to Psychological Musings, its good to have you here,

Expect some deep reflections, and posts that are crafted with care. 

Thoroughly researched substacks, for which I read a lot,  

Distilling the info into wisdom, putting in a lot of thought. 

You may wish that I write daily; perhaps, once in a month, I'll write!

But I will track my subject thoroughly, analyze and sources cite.

Just not to lose our connect, I'll write shorter pieces too, 

A weekly update, curating stuff, from a quirky point of view. 

3 articles that I am reading, 2 books summarized in bytes, 

1 poem accompanying - filled with psychological insights.

The poem would be 14 lines, my signature imprint, 

I hope to wow and dazzle you, and eventually mint. 

I aspire to be a full time writer, penning poems and psychological musings, 

If you don't pledge support, I'll still invest my time- I don't mind the losings. 

 

 

PS: Psychological Musings is my substack newsletter that I am reviving and on which I will be posting deeper psychological reflections as well as weekly curated content. If you have even a slight interest in psychology I strongly encourage you to subscribe to it.

Being a Centenarian

You don't really die of old age, but from disease of heart and soul, 

Cholesterol starts accumulating, and loneliness takes its toll. 

Accidental deaths are minimal, more die from diseases like Alzheimer's, 

If you have lived a 100 years you've learned, the art of slowing body timers.  

How can I become an inhabitant, of the Blue Zones you ask, 

The short answer - eat plant based meal, and in longevity glory bask. 

5 servings of fruits and vegetables, instead of processed eat grain that is whole, 

Large portions of beans and nuts, put seeds in your breakfast bowl. 

Avoid meat and dairy products, don't eat fish, or, smoke cigar, 

Eliminate eggs and slash sugar, water is the best beverage by far.   

The biggest criminal though, is neither animal nor plant based,

Salt is the reason one's heart becomes weak- we succumb to the taste.

 

The plant based diet has many advantages, its nutritious and a decision wise,  

But the forever reason, you die from animal food, you can't digest, their damning cries. 

PS: Before my non vegetarian friends take offense, let me link to the article (and research) on which this poem is based.