Thoughts to Words

The session began at 8 pm. You shared about how the day has been and the highlight I listen to is that you haven't had the time to eat any meal throughout the day. I can see the exhausted look on your face right through the screen and I know how distracting hunger can be.  "Please go and eat something and we will reconnect in a few minutes." The word empathy is an action that you practice in the healthcare industry like an anthem. You have got to memorize it and meditate in its rhythmic light. My next session is at 9 pm and this one was already delayed by an hour which means my mini-break between two sessions is cut out. And that's okay because therapy is not just about talking, it is about doing what is the best for the client.  Therapy books written by renowned professionals who have been kind enough to share their wisdom have taught me a lot and one thing that I understand is experiences like these help you grow as a human being.  As your therapist when I ask you t...

"Fighting like cats and dogs."  What baseless rumour are they distributing like a virus? I always share my crunchy biscuits with you that are daily kept at 7am by a good Samaritan near 'Paradise Apartments'. We even play catch and fetch on weekends. Our progressive development on peaceful coexistence has not reached their idiot boxes and smartphones. People know that your paws are retractable and mine are not, I bark and you meow, I love hanging out with my pack near the meat shop and you love your 'Me time' in the park. We are very different but there is no divide between us.  How many five-year terms will it take for these species with apparently working brains to figure out the Shakuni tactics going on in the executive forests? Funnily, there are too many clones of Shakuni and here is when casting votes becomes a dicey business but nobody told them that the world's largest democracy would come without risks. In the reigning age of tik tok, some of them ...

What is poetry but the art you make out of your pain, our pain, their pain, its pain. You move mountains to Jupiter, you pull out a treehouse from a broken leaf and hide it beneath the sea, you trap a mermaid in an aquarium, you scoop out a wine flavoured cheese from the eyes of demons, you pour the sand from the timer on the roulette wheel and draw a snoozing hen on it. You do the done, you do the undone, you undo the done. A rotational metaphor in the axis of your quill becomes a revolution for the child who could not protest against the infiltration of her safety because she was too young to understand what fight or flight was and therefore she froze that leap year, because the farmer who jumps into death from a tower of debts was denied the very fruits he had sown with his blood and sweat, because the dancer who was a natural is an engineer in a multinational company, because water is drowning in thirst and pollution is not even one third bothered, because the unsung volunteer air ...