Imposter Syndrome

In a world

Where judgement

Precedes knowledge

Prejudice before

Understanding

In an era

Where world tries

To make you

Someone else

Weaves a tale

That suits their

Narratives

A world where 

You are a misfit 

You feel naturally

Like an imposter 

In a world 

Everything seems

Staged and performative

A doll’s house perhaps

Anything original

Is constantly doubted

Needing proof

A world which

Keeps validating lies

Creating false narratives

And a cloud of confusion

What else can you feel

But an imposter?

There are masks

Behind masks, underneath masks

Agendas hiding agendas

Like Martyoshka dolls

All identical and empty

A riot of shamelessness

Arrogance of patriarchy

What else can you be?

But an Imposter

Shape shifting, flowing

Trying to fit in

But feeling half empty

And also overwhelmed

You didn’t ask for this ride

You didn’t ask for these lies

Or these false narratives

Not sure who is

Hallucinating here

Me or you ?

Or who is the imposter?

Me? Or You?

Or the humanity itself!!

Possibilities

It is difficult to be optimistic

Some always see

half glass empty

Because it is empty

Emptiness is overwhelming

And it consists of suffering

And all kinds of lacks

A cruel void

But it also presents

Immense possibilities

There is a space to fill

There is a space that can change

However grim realities are

Change is always a possibility

It just happened in Hungary

Before it came to Nepal, Bangladesh

Common young people turned up

In streets and in polling booths

They did not stare at the void

And the status quo

They decided to upturn the glass

That’s the tipping point

One country at a time is reaching

Rekindling hope against all hope

For possibilities against

What seems impossible

History shows tyrants were defeated

There is an overwhelming evidence

We know the half empty glass

Can be filled with hope

And unknown possibilities

We need courage to

Keep trudging

To live with and without

To believe

And to simply show up

When possibilities emerge!!

Magic of Books

We devour books

By different authors

About different places

With different perspectives

Diverse stories in

Written in various

Language, words and vocabulary

Idioms, metaphors and phrases

We become inhabitants of the story

A keen observer or listener or

A lizard on the wall

Watching the characters build up

The taut tension between them

and then the resolution

(Or lack of it)

The beginning and the end

The two fixed ends of any story

The story stretched out in between

Just like the tension

Of a guitar string

That creates harmonics

(And the disharmony)

It is punctuated with

Vibes, noise and silences

Books are our escape

Just like music or movies

They create an imaginary world

For us to inhabit

Even if momentarily

Till the last page of the book

The places which are real

For the writer

Become our wild imagination

Our ultimate refuge

Most blissful death

Would be perhaps

Being completely lost in a book

Imagine walking on those

Cobbled street of another time

Or in a futuristic world

And getting left behind forever

For there is no coming back!!

No rude awakenings

Morning alarms and drudgery

No looking out for your

Favourite characters or places

We will become as unreal

Or Surreal as them!!

PS: Ramblings after the monthly book club meeting

Love

A Noun?

A Verb?

An Adjective?

Human value?

Emotion?

Attachment?

Attraction?

Respect ?

Friendship?

Kinship?

Dopamine?

Oxytocin?

Validation?

Affection?

Admiration?

Desire?

Conditional?

Unconditional?

Affection?

Romance?

Platonic?

Narcissism ?

Passion?

Adoration?

Devotion?

Compassion?

Sympathy?

Obsession?

Lust?

Greed?

Love encompasses all, takes various forms… yet no one understands it…

PS: Have I missed something? Do add..

Far too Long…

It takes far too long

To figure out the right from wrong

It takes far too much

To comprehend how much is too much

It takes a lifetime

To figure out life is about time

Sometimes it’s far too late

To let go what is already lost

It takes too long to figure out

There isn’t any blue print

And there isn’t much to figure out

By the time we find the puzzle pieces

It is too late

The puzzle actually is being undone

And not all pieces fit in

It takes forever

To know that silence is eloquent

Conveys more than words

It takes too many wars to know

To know what actually is at stake

And wars go on far too long

And love?

We can barely hold it for long

It slips through fingers like sand

The moment you define it

It becomes a possession

A caged bird

Which rarely returns when set free

It goes away far too far and

Far too long…

Light and Dark

Light and Dark

Light and darkness
Both fill my home
I have made peace
With both
For, I dwell in the greys

I never had a life plan
But life did have a design
Without a choice
I went along

I chose life or
Life chose me
Here we are
Conversing daily

I don’t know
What happens tomorrow
Or day after
Or years later

I am fatigued
I am just arriving
At my present
Made of nows

Don’t ask me
About my future
Or the path that
Hasn’t yet appeared

Perhaps, I will forever
Dwell in the greys and greens
To soak in the blue hour
Seeking stars, comets and the moon

Trust and Love

Trust and Love

The kitten ran
Helter skelter
Scared, very scared
Neighborhood kids
Tried to reason with it
But it was too small
Full of fear
Confused maybe
Maybe it felt attacked
While actually it was
Being rescued

Rescuers didn’t earn
Its trust perhaps
But they were sure
It ought to trust them
The more they tried
Befriending it
More it shrank
Into the shadows

Lessons in trust
Are most difficult
To learn
It’s a language
It’s an action
That promises safety
Both sides need to be
Calm and patient
To set this dialogue stage
On safe middle grounds

What is the language of trust?
What is the language of love?
No one teaches these
We are supposed to learn them
Context, syntax and meaning
Most often we learn the hard way
After the trust is broken
And love breaks the trust

In that darkness
Tiny kitten couldn’t see
Trust or love in the eyes
While everyone saw
Fear in its eyes
When they backed off
It ran for its life
Away from the life
It took a while
For it to return
To this game of
Hide and seek again

Maybe it will survive
Maybe it won’t
Depends on what lurks
In the darkness
One can only hope
It finds its way to
To the bowl of milk
Waiting for it
Food often builds trust
So does tender care

Tenderness is rare
No one teaches us that too
Knowingly, unknowingly
It comes our way
Like the gentle breeze
That helps us breathe

Love can be suffocating
It can smother and kill
What it pretends to protect
While trying to control
We never try to understand
Children’s language
Instead we expect them
To comprehend ours

Children too run
Helter skelter
With fear in the eyes
Unsure why
Mistrust masquerades
As trust
And anger as love
Like Pavlov’s subjects
Why does it all
Have to be reward
Or punishment?

When will we learn
To back off?
And wait patiently
With food and trust
On the table
And tender love in
Our hearts?

#WorldMentalHealthDay2025

Stranger

A stranger stares at me

Whenever I look at the mirror

A school girl with two pigtails

A college goer

A trekker

A writer

Stranger takes many forms

All forms seem

Like a figment of imagination

The mirror itself has gone missing

The images are stuck in my head

My self tries to time travel

I climb the hills

But I go out of breath

The pigtails are gone too

A writer perhaps still thrives

Who will keep record

Of all these strangers?

They grew up with me

And then abandoned me

Or maybe I abandoned them

It’s not just them or me

The world has become a stranger too

Victims have turned perpetrators

Little children no longer grow old

To stare at the mirror

To remember their many strange selves

As we go further to discover

Ever expanding edges of the Universe

We seem to be collapsing

Just like those stars running out of hydrogen

We are made of star dust after all

Stars taught us to go nuclear perhaps

Just like a habitat with prey and predators

We continue to live in a concrete jungle

Though roles get reversed in every epoch

Predators become prey

Hunted turn into hunters

How long will it take for us

To be humans?

Mirror has no answers

My many selves and versions

Collapse into one too

The one that is trapped

Behind the mirror or screen perhaps

A virtual self…a stranger

Stares back at me!!

My Happy Place

We all look for it

A proverbial ‘happy place’

A place where

One can be oneself

One can find yourself

One learns to look

At self and world differently

In the life’s roller coaster ride

There is always one place, one city

Where you know

You are safe

Not just because of people

But in spite of people

You step out

And the breeze simply seems

To blow to carry away your worries

Making breathing easy 

The green canopies and flowering trees

Waft of filter coffees and dosas, 

The flower fragrances 

Aromatically you are home too

You may not have roots here

But it lets you grow and rediscover 

Your own forgotten self and dreams

Though the traffic is traumatic

It soothes your trauma

Bangalore, what else do I say?

I literally got my second life here

After that near fatal accident

The neurologist too humoured me

With a local humour which is mild and raw

But punches do land

No wonder stand ups thrive here

The city where startups are often born to die

In a shortest span of time

People know how to pick themselves

Where uber drivers too have tales

Of bad investments and losses

You taught me to pick myself up too

Many years ago and later now

I find my broken self here in the bookshops

In science spaces and conversations

Where people still assert

While respecting boundaries

They listen, they let you have the mic

This city feels like my happy place

I can be anyone here

Educator, poet, archivist, traveller

Storyteller, photographer, reader, writer

And be them all at once too

Mankind consists of all kinds

But I always find more of my kind

In this good old charming city

(Which is fast losing its charms)

To which I keep returning to

With my scars and bruises

To my utter surprise

People call me a healer 

That’s how we just heal each other

With conversations over cuppas

Of filter coffees or walks

Undramatically, unknowingly

A calm city which is no hurry

To be smart, fast or the best

Maybe hostile and unwelcoming to some

But then we all need to

Find our happy and safe space

Which lets us be…our unapologetic self

MK