Shock Therapy

Sometimes a jolt is needed, to revive a dying man,

Sometimes the bridges are burnt, and you are left, without a backup plan.

Sometimes you learn to swim, only when pushed in a pool, 

Sometimes you need to start afresh, though you may look like a fool.

Sometimes the habit of a chain, makes the calf unaware of its strength,

Sometimes despite maturing, you can't go the extra length.

Sometimes you forget the skies, a price steep enough, for the comfort of a cage,

Sometimes you need to boil and simmer, before transitioning, to a new phase. 

Sometimes you want to jump from planes, with the safety of a chute,

Sometimes you try to change the course, with a force that is brute. 

Sometimes the world conspires, and frees you from your rock,

Sometimes you can't follow your dreams, thinking what will people talk.

I've been tossed and crushed against my will, I'm down but not out,

I've reached the nadir of my life, now the only way is up - no doubt!

Missing a Friend

12 missed calls, from 5 different friends,

No response, or busy tone, we were at wits ends.

The matter was urgent, a Friday night party,

That a regular was missing, was a cause for anxiety.

He's a mouse at his home, his leg we used to pull,

Without him attending, the quorum wasn't full.

We shot on wide angle, all the gathered friends,

And shared over WhatsApp, to cajole and make amends.

The message wasn't received, the blue tick didn't come,

We celebrated in nearby restaurant, while he was perhaps lonesome.

Our outrage was justified, why ignore us all,

Was our celebration secondary, to some official call?

As the party drew to an end, a message was received,

My connection was down, please don't feel aggrieved.

Hunting For An Answer

How are you? Doing great!

I blurt out inanity, in a mindless state. 

How's work? As great as ever!

I struggle for an answer, substantial or clever. 

The work is tepid, I'm lying fallow,

If I don't speak the truth, am I a lying fellow?

Is it OK to dump, my feelings on others,

Are you really keen to know, what I'm doing brothers?

I rarely do something, I wait and watch,

When the game appears, I take the game up a notch.

Striking strong, when the opportunity strikes,

I conserve my energy, for the occasional spikes. 

I should answer happy and feasting, if I play by the books,

But hungry, on the prowl and wasting, is how most of my day looks.

Using the 3 Rs

You get defined by your choices, of what you read,

The libraries you visit, the bookshelves you need. 

You vote with your money, the books you buy,

Shape the man you become, by and by.

You get defined by your choices, of what you write,

Whether its healing or humorous, or hits with a bite. 

You may choose to be inspired, write once in a blue moon,

But to depend on a masterpiece, is to risk oblivion soon.

You get defined by your choices, of the math you do,

Whether you believe in zero-sum games, or make 1+1 more than 2.

You may calculate like a pro, or you may prefer to start from zero, 

If you can balance what is yours, with whats of others, you are a hero.

Reading wRiting aRithmetic, are more than skills or a pastime, 

If you don't let them define you - it would be a heinous crime.

Highly Sensitive

Rashes and allergies, due to an innocuous herb,  

I am not as rock solid as others - you can easily perturb. 

Easily startled by sounds, that to others are imperceptible,

Bruised by a pea deep below, to the prince makes me acceptable.

 

Gloom and doom, because of an innocuous weather,

If its too cold or hot, I turn to stone from feather.  

I count the many shades, of blues and blacks around, 

Can feel the weight of being different, even before I am crowned. 

 

Hurt and pained, because of an innocuous comment,

I can discern the scorn, that is only tangentially meant.   

I get triggered in a hundred ways, or go in a shell like a touch-me-not,

My empathy can heal the kings, like the Grail that is highly sought

My sensitivity is not my Achilles heel, its the unique vantage I have got,

It lets me absorb and process deeply, and rise above the human lot.

Niksen

The day gets washed, like a torrent of rain, 

Incessant striving, that goes down the drain.

When night starts to fall, there is some relief, 

I center like a dew- no matter how brief.

 

Just lying there passively, no fury, no steam, 

No plans to drown the city, or join hands with the stream. 

Taking my sweet time, to form and disappear,   

Being present in the moment, content in the now-and-here.  

That moment of stillness, looks idle and waste, 

As the morning dawns, gets trampled in haste.

A new day demands, we pick our parts again,

And face the world anew, come storm or rain.

There's an art to doing nothing, it needn't create art, 

You don't need a new poem daily- to heal your heart.

Carbon Copy

Don't expect your child, to become your carbon copy,

He may dance to a different beat, be it work or hobby.

You may be a studious nerd, he an athletic hunk, 

You may prefer country music, to his rock and punk.

Don't let the weight of expectations, chip away at his life,

To hope, that he follows in your footprints, is just not right.

Let him explore his passions, let him repeat mistakes, 

Let him give exams, that are prestigious and high stakes.

His constitution is different, you have to give him space,

Let him decide for himself, how he wants to win this race.

Let him stumble and fall, as long as his intentions are right, 

He'll rise up again and again, and will put up a good fight.

 

I'm glad you put some pressure, to ensure a carbon copy, 

In matters of values and morals, one cant afford to be sloppy.