Substitutions

 

Very often (in life) we substitute

(not immediately 

but over time)

our primary source of gratification. 

The validation I crave

as addicting as nicotine

now comes from work

and not anymore from my

creatively crafted words

but now my 'cleverly' drafted words.

Not camaraderie from my friends

but companionships with The One.

Rather than be filled with guilt

over these ever moving tectonic plates

and drama fought over 

the shifting shapes of time,

graceful acceptance 

of what we have now 

and not just redundant regret 

over what we once had in the past

Acknowledge 

that even though the past lives only in our heads

albeit rent free

We are still very much alive

and can be our own tertiary delights

keeping us balanced

in the right line of sane

Like only old friends can. 

Written for the PU prompt ' Substitutions' 

I am publishing my works after a break and I thank everyone who encouraged me to start writing and sharing it again!

Some pics of the first digitally handwritten draft

Sishya

 

When I was a kid I remember reading this famous mahabharatha story on Karna and parasurama. Karna a Kshatriya lies to Parasurama that he is a bhramin to get trained in archery and stuff. Parasurama is very pleased with him. One day when parasurama was like napping in Karna’s lap, a scorpion bites through karna and he doesn’t flinch ( not wanting to disturb his mentor’s beauty sleep ) His hotheaded mentor wakes up due to the blood trickling down on him and instead of being touched by his pupil’s devotion realizes that his disciple can’t be a weak bhramin and must be a strong Kshatriya to withstand such pain. And curses karna. That’s the end of the story. You heard me right. You can read a more proper version of this story here.

Firstly, how flawed and cool is mahabharatha lol love it infinitely more than the boring Ramayana ( Don’t come at me haters)

Secondly, this story is pretty dark, I’m glad I didn’t understand the overtly casteist nature of this story when I was young.

What I am focusing on today and what has been running in my head is the fundamentally toxic guru-sishya bond which is so revered in our country and which is so firmly embedded in our mind that even acts of cutting your thumb (ekalavya I’m looking at you) , withstanding scorpion bites may not be sufficient to gain your ‘guru’s’  appreciation. And you just need to keep trying harder. Anything remotely resembling labour law is seen as a favour done to you. Having no work life balance is glorified. Even the good ones act like they’re performing charity. I remember an  office where my friend worked Monday to Sundays at – they used to say how lucky he was that he was even getting paid. I am not just talking out of personal experience. Sadly, I see workplace exploitation and burnout in all fields including but not limited to medicine,engineering,C.As, architects….basically my whole friend list is one unhappy overworked mess and no one seems to acknowledge that the system is rigged. They just blame the individual as whiny or a ‘millenial’  *sigh*

(359 words)

 

Be the Bee

 

 

She was lil miss

Buzz the bumblebee

She wasn’t going to just

 let her honey

 be.

 

Fierce and protective

Her words truly stung

Only the sinister selective/

Callous collective.

 

Yet the rumors really hung

Floating around the honeycomb

“Queen Bee coming through”

 

However

 She was lil miss

Buzz the bumblebee

And she was going to

Let her haters Be.

 

Mellifluous mornings

Tend to drown out the

Superfluous mournings.

 

Keep being busy

As you can be

Always be you

For you are a bee

 

Forget the fools

You

Don’t need to fix them.

 

She is lil miss

Worker bee

The pollen is where

The honey will be

And the honey is where

Her heart will always be.

 

So take the hint,

My friend

Without the likes of her

The world will go extinct.

So take the hint

And let her buzz free

And her sting be.

 

 

 

 

Karuppu Da

 P.C - Jason Peterson

Life in the Black and White

Justified ,

 aligned to be professional

Where is my Bookman Old Style?

A checkered Chess

A pawn marching forward

To become Queen

At the end of it all.

My Dog’s Coat is

Black and White too!

I pet her inconsistencies

And pat mine too

We move forward

W(h)ining & Winning.

A dash of grey

Can blot the white

But can never dim the dark

And that is why

I am a Black Queen y’all.

( Karuppu means black and Da is synonymous to dude in tamil)