A Confession hard to make 

A suppressed guilt wakes me up each day,

Reminding me to confess about it and take my way.

I know it will be for you, mere dismay:

I have no intention of hiding it, yet cannot say.

At this point in time for you, I feel,

You conventions intend to stop you from getting to the real;

Its high time we, in fact sensible strike a deal 

It’s better to think our way than see for others, what does appeal.

A promise that you made still resides in my mind,

That a friend for me you would be, still... I’m tying hard in you, to find

Our relationship of sharing the same blood puts my thoughts again on a grind,

a fake chain of emotions do nothing but help this idea rewind,

Ultimately I know not, if with my decision you will be kind,

I confess not as I doubt if our age and conceptions can ever bind.

LOTUS LIVING

Many see her in a lake’s deep,

They might feel in ignorance she is asleep...

Floating, she stays on what she lives

The breeze brings lot to her that is full of false beliefs.

A hundred buds and bloomed flowers around,

Few are those whose destination is already found

The others just form meaningless waves around

Despite the differences, they are sold on the same ground.

Her efforts to grow better go in vain,

There is indeed nothing that can be termed as gain.

For she knows, she has to undergo the same pain

It wouldn’t be as easy as to escape from the rain

 

Identity crisis 

I lay in a cradle watching two people whom I now recognize as my lovely parents .I wondered what the discussion was all about for the words sounded alien to me .One could call it a debate in its simplest form. This was something that probably went on for two days or so .Of this; one thing was certain to happen .The winner would enjoy the privilege of gifting me with my identity.

This is probably what each one of us will imagine when we are told a tale of how our name was chosen.

     Being the elder daughter, a first child, I came into the family with a voucher of excitement for all. It indeed surprised many as God had probably made a last minute change according to them. The astrologer’s prediction that my parents would have a boy baby had turned wrong. Months passed by. People addressed me by various names such as ‘eh baby!’ ‘’chinnu’ …time had then come to give me an official name.

     As per the usual custom, my parents sought advice from their elders. They were asked to give me a name starting from the letter ‘D’ .This left them a little dissatisfactory as the choice was a little less. Thus they ended up giving the name’s sake name Dolly.

Then began the actual debate .It was decided that my name would begin with the letter ‘R’ as both my parents had theirs beginning with the same. Two names struck their minds out of which one sounded alien to everyone in the family except my mom. Reshma and Rashmi .Dad preferred to keep it conventional and mom, the opposite. A lot of arguments happened about the name sounding Islamic and was not found in the Sanskrit books.

        

       A day then came when a lot of people had gathered .It was time to reveal the name. The secret was first whispered into my ear three times as if to sign the same bond three times to ensure that nothing goes wrong.

A mystery still remains unresolved .Does the name exists in Sanskrit scriptures?

All I know is that it means something silky and delicate .When people pull my leg regarding this here is what i say. “Not everyone would be lucky to be named this way. Born in a Hindu family, nicknamed a Christian and official name, Islamic .Perfect Indian .Isn’t it??”

PSYCHO-EDUCATION. Boon or bane??

 

Indented to make a recovery, it contradicts the basic principles in psychology. This widely applied strategy is psycho education. Psycho education refers to the education offered to people who live with a psychological disturbance. Frequently psycho educational training involves patients with schizophrenia, clinical depression, anxiety
disorders, psychotic illnesses, eating disorders, and personality disorders, as well as patient training courses in the context of the treatment of physical illnesses. At times family members are also asked to attend the session.

Here is my bit of opinion from about the same.

Doing an internship at Spandana re-habilitation center was of course a great experience on the whole. Of having an interaction with them and taking a close look at their schedule, one thing that drew all my attention was the Psycho-education session included in their schedule .All patients were asked to assemble in groups allotted to them in a hall where a psychologist or intern is asked to give a lecture on a disorder that they are suffering from. To put it in more straight terms it is to remind them that’ they are ill’. Such sessions are conducted once a week .Doesn‘t this frequency sound little too much?

According to one of the great psychologists, Skinner, positive re-enforcement is always advantageous over the negative.  Ironically; psycho-education which is supposed to be the most employed methods goes right against this.

 It is not less heard that a person with ailment recovers when he is told his problem is nothing major and given a boost of confidence When on one hand it serves the purpose of spreading awareness, on the other it does of course pull down the patient’s confidence. The point to think over is that  ...”Would a patient who on the first hand needs motivation than anything else show signs of recovery when he is constantly told –YOU ARE SICK? “ 

Power of Fragrance

 Vulnerable a flower, stands on that meadow’s green,

Horizon is the limit of what it has seen.

It takes no wind but just breeze for this delicate one to lean,

I wonder what this stagnant entity, to the world could mean.

The sun’s rays nurture

Yet gives no comforting feel as that of a feather

The same source, when harsh feels like it’s trying to smother.

I wonder if he is even aware, how much to the delicate being does bother.

The lost energy is what, through water she tries to re-gain

 Pouring rain stands on her laying all stress and strain,

All her efforts to refresh go in vain;

It does nothing but adds to her slain.

It takes her a year long to understand the cycle is certain to repeat,

Stands she, against all odds confident, though she doesn’t seem 

It’s her fragrance that none can destroy be it the pressure or the heat.

The Scar

Amongst many things that along years we leave behind,

Past is something that never gets out of mind.

Though I try hard to make my present well defined

The guilt from within restrains me from getting refined.

I walk towards my destination but at times trip,

I wish to climb, but the support beside provides no grip;

I stuff all my carried over and pull up the zip:

I wonder whom I’ve to address it to when apology slips out of my lip.

A fall, initially gives too much pain,

People can spot it; though I cry in rain.

Though carefully I medicate, it all goes in vain;

For, there is a glowing scar that is certain to remain.