It takes extraordinary courage,
To constantly look over your shoulder,
To tune your actions to fit unarticulated norms, 
To relentlessly fight for what is rightfully yours,
To face the dissonance between reality and promise,
To adopt struggle as a way of life,
To protect yourself from your “protector”
Why should it take extraordinary courage
to just live an ordinary life?

True to her vision,

Stimulated by her passion,

She weaves to perfection,

Reiterating her design ethic,

Blending the modern and ethnic

Shunning the distraction of color,

Ignoring the elements of popular styling,

She plays with a variety of fabrics,

Bonding them with absolute precision,

Creating an eclectic collection,

Echoing her deep conviction,

Etching her ideas in paint,

She makes a bold statement

Bringing unparalleled joy to the artist,

Though dissonant with popular opinion,
Intricate details lost on the hurried observer,
Symbolism too subtle to capture attention,
Commercially, it failed to make a connection

She treads on undeterred,
Proud of her perfect execution,
Confident she can find joy in the expression,
Knowing no other has been on her journey,
To earn the right to judge her story

Covid-19

Like the Night king, it goes on a rampage,
Gaining strength from the carnage
Its icy fingers strike down its foes,
Dancing on the mountain of its victim's woes
Turning unsuspecting observers into soldiers against their own,
It is all set to usurp the sceptre and the throne

As the shadow of death looms larger,
The spirit drains like a battery with no charger
Disguised as a friend, it gains entry,
Rendering useless the duty-bound sentry
Without humans turned into soldiers, I ponder,
Would there be a war to wager, I wonder

If to protect each other we make our mission,
Would this land us in an economic depression?
Would the invisible nemesis thrive,
Because we cannot ourselves deprive?
Our adversary will be slain one day,
Until then in human lives, the cost we pay.

For no reason, but with good reason

Sometimes I toil away driven by,
Neither money nor compensation,
Neither trophy nor recognition,
Neither necessity nor compulsion,
Neither proclivity nor addiction,
Neither responsibility nor obligation.
I never ask myself why.

I toil away,
Engrossed and enthralled,
Undeterred by fatigue,
Unperturbed by hunger,
Unconcerned about the passage of time,
Employing my undivided attention.
I never ask myself why.

I toil away,
Excited about the process of creation,
Enjoying every moment of the journey,
Weaving a simplistic universe,
Stripped of judgement and expectation.
Knowing I don't need to ask myself why.

You go Girl...

After, 
navigating life alone with courage,
overcoming challenges with grace,
establishing yourself as a successful professional,
demonstrating your superior aesthetic sense,
being acclaimed for your culinary prowess,
manifesting your sensitivity and ability to brighten spirits,

You don't need to be protected,
You don't need to be told who you are,
You don't need rules to curtail you,
You don't need to fit into any mould,
You don't need approval to make your decisions,
You don't need to surrender your free will.

You are the master of your dreams,
So give yourself the best role!

Shortcut to the dead end

Not enough time or patience,
To visit places or relish different cuisines,
To read books or appreciate art from around the world,
To learn the myriad languages or grok diverse cultures,
To understand belief systems or analyze thought processes,
To make a distinction between sense and sensibility.

So, we assume an oversimplified narrative,
Boxing people into stereotypes,
Magnifying the differences,
Amplifying the biases,
Crushing our ability to reason,
Energizing our latent insecurities,
Crystallizing them into a mixture of anger and fear,

We strive to protect ourselves,
To guard our culture,
Exposing the worst human instincts, 
Sacrificing ourselves at the altar,
Of an utterly unnecessary war, 
that will have no winners!

Race

Life is,
A never ending race,
where leads are an ephemeral emotion,
and winning is an illusion,
An endless game of dice,
where lady luck stamps her authority,
and winning seems like charity,
A journey through time,
where relativity defines the story,
And winning is confined to a theory.

And yet..
We inflict upon ourselves the notion,
That winning is the implicit expectation.
Choosing to confine joy to the few bubbles of "victory",
In the hope of making history.