An Analyst's Block

I was so excited when I moved to Pune to be  

A market research analyst with the start-up, I associated with for two years

It was my dream job and I had to wait for years for an opportunity

I was struggling with a break-up and a sleep disorder

I was unaware that I was under depression

After a slow start, I enjoyed being involved in all aspects of that firm 

I loved researching markets and analyzing qualitatively

with the tools and techniques available

Finding new trends, technologies and updates 

Then the doctor advised me to quit the medicine and I got

a new medicine of lower dosage, My struggle started right there 

I started losing sleep and I couldn't focus on research

I had a short break during an important week as I struggled 

    I would sit for hours in front of the laptop to only write a few paragraphs 

I started getting headaches, and my world moved slowly 

It was embarrassing, as I couldn't engage in tight deadlines 

I started losing my temper and my frustration increased 

I was working on reports on my own and had targets 

I refused to get involved in an urgent report and company profiles

One day, I felt I couldn't do anything anymore and I asked my 

team leader to let me go home and work from home 

The company owner and team leader decided to allow that  

Provided I meet the monthly targets 

For days I sat blankly in front of a laptop trying to do company profiles 

No matter my efforts, it felt it was beyond me 

I had unfinished reports in front of me and I couldn't finish 

Without medicine, I struggled to sleep and I tried walking 

To tire me and induce sleep, and it took a while for it to work

But still, I couldn't write a thing on my report 

Slowly I was able to research and study other markets

But still, I couldn't do the company profiles and it gave me so much stress 

I had to quit my job and return home and had to engage in another field  

I was diagnosed with depression and I came under medication 

It helped me to come out of stress and be more focused on tasks

The lockdown made me sit at home and do research for a project 

I found research exciting again and spent hours every day 

Then I got a chance to associate with another market research firm

And it gave me the confidence to be a freelancer and found work through analysts 

Then almost two years later, I was doing company profiles in bulk 

And I was doing market research reports again with excitement

It was magical, as I was able to do something I felt was beyond me 

It was like a long writer's block for me that affected my career!

PS: I still wonder why I couldn't do one particular task. It was beyond me at that point. I found it easy later. I am going through another phase of it after an ambitious attempt to come out of medicines. The reduction in dosage left me struggling to do the simple task that I used to do with ease. It doesn't affect my creative writing though. Depression has taken away the joy I had with my work. I had to write this to motivate myself again and continue with my efforts. 

Languages of Life

I can't comprehend the language of love

anymore, I feel I am a new born illiterate 

After unlearning the love and it's mirage

I have frozen the memories in my mind  

I have closed the doors of my faint heart 

Maybe, I am getting older to like misery

Maybe, I am finding peace in the voids 

That I didn't try to fill with a new person

I found my old hobbies more exciting 

That I started doing things I gave up 

I learned the art of gratitude to appreciate

The small things that give me happiness 

I am gifting my precious time to silence 

I am hearing the voices from the nature 

I'm delving deep into the novel thoughts

I'm praying calmly to the god for guidance

I'm dreaming silently about a new destiny

I'm giving my pen ink to write new words

It has opened the floodgates of poetry 

In a way, I am relearning languages of life 

A poem based on wordprompts from #inkmine . Image from Unsplash 

Deception

Her moonlit glasses
Hid her bumble eyes
Wandering around to
See the man who fell
For her beguile words
and smile, Her hollow
love had razor's edge
To win disputes with
him, Everytime they
faced fights of egos
She thrived in poems
He wrote about her
He was drunk in his
Innocent love for her
She's just abiding time
Enjoying the glitters of
his company, Until his
purpose in her life ends
He was dreaming about
An impossible life with her
He didn't realise that she is
a mirage that he cannot own
She would fly away like a bird
When she come across another
man, Who is rich and more exciting 

This poem is based on word prompts from #vss365 #crowcalls #vssmagic #ThePush #Wordsofglass #moonmystic and   #FridayPhrases

Image from www.dreamstime.com

An Exodus From Arcot

An exodus that never made any waves 

Under the siege of British colonial army 

Long before the formation of India union

A break away group left the native Arcot

Leaving behind their wealth,and heritage

To avoid life under the captive of enemy

Found refuge in the southern travancore 

Locals ostracized them as the outsiders 

Treating them as unequals in all sectors

They were served tea in coconut shells 

They became a new community with

New narrative and a new resolve to fight

The successors revolted against British 

They chose to seek education for kids 

At the cost of surrendering the identity 

When India became sovereign nation 

They stopped speaking their lingua Tamil

They stopped celebrating their customs 

They became malayalies like the natives

Celebrating the festivals of the Kerala 

They have slowly attained prosperity 

None of them tried to go back to Arcot 

They wonder if locals will welcome them 

More than a century after the exodus 

This poem is about a section of a community that had to relocate from Arcot near Chennai  to travancore/Kerala during British onslaught in 19th century. It changed their lives. They had to rebuild their lives with new realities and identity.  Missionaries gave them education. They chose education over social status. They became a new community with privileges attained for being backward in their new native.

The High School Dictator

This poem is written for a guest post on Jamie Adams's website  https://jamieadstories.blog/  

I wish to extend my heartfelt thanks to Jamie Adams for this opportunity. This is my first guest post ever. Corporal punishments are now banned. This poem is about incidents that happened more than 24 years ago. 

I saw a dream 

I was back in my high school 

Again to learn some discipline 

There were total strangers 

But a man stood out 

He was the dreaded frog-eyed man 

The principal and headmaster 

He had difficult eyesight, 

But he had a good hearing capability

He had strict rules for the school 

The school was silent like a library mostly

Smacking with a stick was legal in 

his era, If you're late, you get 

smacked, We had  fearful days in 

school, Teachers looked for a reason

to expel us from the class, To be 

caught by him during his long walk   

 twice a day, Looking for preys to take to 

the office room, To give warning and smacking 

Students tried to do homework at all costs, 

We tried not to make any nuisance,

Even during class with no tutoring due to fear, 

It's more fearful if he asks to bring our parents, 

He would talk about the performance of 

ward at school, And our parents give him the right

to discipline their wards, He would mercilessly

fail students who he doesn't have faith, In  keeping

the hundred percentage record of the school, 

in the state level exams in the tenth standard, 

Those who survive the cull had extra classes,

And he used to monitor our progress closely, 

We had to get a signature from a parent, 

That we did all the tasks on the checklist daily, 

Without that teacher would make us stand, 

We would hide on the sides of the window,

As he has difficulty seeing around, 

One day he caught me standing during the 

lunch break, I was asked to perform 100 squats 

publicly, With my hands on my ears, The school's 

good reputation was built by him, More than fear,

The urge to get good marks drives students to study

hard, The pride in being part of the glory of the school

help us too, It's funny to think now, he taught us not to

waste food, He used to check our lunch boxes after eating,

He taught us to wear dhoti, By making it a uniform on Fridays,

He was in front to feast us on a special day, The one rupee coin

he gave on Vishu is still special, The school assemblies and his 

address, Remain a distant memory!

I saw my high school principal again in my dream last night. So I felt he is an appropriate topic to write on. I was scared of him and his punishments. He had an aura about him. Image from Adobe Stock.