Geeta

You must do what you must do

Without caring about the results 

You must remove yourself 

Completely 

From the results

From feeling anything 

Not because 

You don't care

But because 

If you only care

You cannot do

What you need to do

Live

To the question of

Where do you live

If you are

Not to be yourself 

Anywhere, with anyone 

The answer is

Alone

You live alone

And nowhere else

The key

Then 

Is to kill yourself 

Ignore feelings 

Entirely 

To not look for

Ways to soak and spread 

And flower and bloom

In the harsh glare 

That is society 

And instead 

To spread yourself thin

Dip your toe

Test the waters

And withdraw 

Constantly 

Only spread your roots

Nay, not roots

But let down a tentacle

Only when it is right

Smile, agree, nod, laugh

For as long as needed

Feeling not a bit of it

Feeling 

Is not necessary here

Only acting is

Only doing what you need to do

And conserve

Your strength 

Live inside your head

Bide your time 

Until

You can let down your guard

Sigh

Close your eyes

And bloom

Let jungles rise from you

Destiny

Everything 

That happened before

Happened 

So that I could accept you

And appreciate 

How precious you are

Harsh light

Picture 

A seed buried deep

In the depths of the soil 

Dark, loamy and rich

It burrows its way up

Slowly, gradually

Unfurls some leaves

Into the dark night

Silent and pulsating 

With mysteries, 

And the promise of life

Stars in the distant sky

And lavender fireflies aglow

A flower blooms

To the tune

Of this black night 

That's you

Taking your own time

To see the world

Learn its ways

Shutting down when you need to

Opening up when you want to 

Swaying gently to the breeze

**

And then imagine 

The flower 

Suddenly thrust into

Piercing white light

Harsh and glaring

Light so strong it's blinding 

And hot, the rays scalding

Imagine the flower

Standing in this white light

All day and all night

Without the rest, respite

And rejuvenation of the night

That's marriage 

Relentless, unceasing 

Scrutinies, demands

For answers, for justifications

Where there are none

**

No doubt you hate it

And yet, 

If you don't learn

To make friends 

With the harsh, blinding

Scorching white light

You will surely wither and die

**

And yet

If you do learn

To make friends with it

You feel

Like a traitor

How can you make friends with 

Something thay blinds you

Sucks the life out of you

The pleasure of food

Notes on

The myriad pleasures of eating

**

One day

I walked into a restaurant

And ordered a big stone bowl

Of noodles heaped with vegetables

And dripping with sauce

I knew it was an order for two

I was really hoping

She would like it

 

When the bowl came

I took one bite and relished 

The rich, savory flavor

She took one bite

And turned away

 

Instantly

The noodles turned to 

Cardboard in my mouth

Why should they though?

It's the same bowl of noodles

Why should I enjoy it any less

Because she didn't?

**

This random research report

That I chanced upon randomly

On  instagram of all places

Keeps haunting me

Something about how

Mice were tested for cholestrol

And fed large amounts of 

Cholestroly stuff

But one group of mice never got fat

Nor develop any cholestrol

And after much investigation

It was found that the reason was that

The handler petted them

Stroked them, loved them

As he fed them

And so, the poison they ingested

Turned to ambrosia

There is so much poetry there

About the power of love

About how for food to be delicious

All it needs is to be prepared with love

And served with love

And so from mice and cholestrol

We jump directly into

unquantifiable, immeasurable

love, pleasure, poetry

**

But to leave poetry behind for a moment

It opened my eyes

To so many things

The way food seemed more delicious

When I was reading while eating 

Often in my childhood

Through adolescence

Reading and eating

Was my favorite hobby

The book felt less engrossing without food

And food felt bland without a book

And then I thought of how

Food is never just food for kids

You have to engage them with it

Like maybe let them play with it

Or you have to engage them elsewhere

Like in a story, a book

Or the way so many people

Painstakingly take hours to feed children

By walking them around, showing them sights

**

So this is inside us

This feeling

That food is not just food

It is to be enjoyed

With other enjoyable activities

Hence the way many communities

Make a celebration of mealtimes

Filling meals with talk and laughter

I am sure the food feels  more delicious that way

(Not Brahmins though

Our code of silence during meals

Is another long story, for another day)

 

**

At the risk of sound like a cliched blogger

(which I am,  incidentally)

I will have to put forth 

My reflections here

Which is that

Food is more than taste

No, let me correct that

Taste is more than taste

You don't like things because 

it has this much sugar and 

this much salt and this much fat

But because of how you eat it

In what company you eat it

Who cooks it, who serves it

How it is cooked, how it is served

And what memories you can make of it

And in this world today

Where we are accustomed to 

Judging the taste of food

by how much sugar and salt

and oil and fat it has

It might seem like a strange idea

That the palette 

Is not inscribed in stone

That it can be coached, 

that it can be molded

And that you can learn

To like things you thought yucky

Or dislike things you hungered for

**

After so much pointless rambling

I will go back to the story

And tell you that

That day

She did like the next bite of noodles

And the next, and the next

So ultimately, 

in my mouth

The cardboard turned back into

Rich, savory, flavorful, nutrition

To the fools

 Who thought that

Entry into men's worlds

Or excelling in it

Rescues them

From the everyday overload

of being a woman

Sorry, girl

There ain't no way out

From being a woman

And carrying

The whole universes

On your shoulders

P.S. 

That's the young me

I am the fools

Ephemeral

There was a time

When I used to feel

That life was just beginning

All the time, I felt

There is so much to explore

Back in my spring

And my summer

That lasted eons

I guess now,

Autumn has set in

And I fear how little time

I have left

To savor, to enjoy

All that the world has to offer

On a chilled, foggy day

Walking the frosted streets

All by myself

Wrapped up in my own thoughts

I lament

How late

I discovered

The joy

Of such days

The oneness

That gloom brings

The way it draws you

Unto yourself

And concentrates your essense

Inside, within

And so little time,

So little

To enjoy days like this

To enjoy

Thoughts

Bubbling

And percolating

Life, so magnified

When you stop living

On the fast lane

It's all personal

They say you shouldn't

Take things personally

And yet

If I smile

Through your rejection

Of me

Then who am I

What kind of monster am I

What do I have 

To smile about anyway

If you do not smile

Back at me