Lakshman Bulusu ----------------------------- poem

SPECIALLY CHALLENGED

By Lakshman Bulusu

I am specially challenged—

The experts call it OCD, BPD, depression—

The words ‘mental illness’ resonate in my mind,

my life shattered like a well-crafted antique,

splintered to pieces.

Moment by moment, this thought eclipses me.

Until one day, I realize I have to come out of this darkness.

Even the night has the moon and the stars

and the day has its light.

I thrill in gardening:

plant seeds of marigold and sunflowers,

till the soil in furrows with a cultivator or a garden hoe,

water daily using a green watering can

with patience as far as my passion can hold.

Behold each blossom, a newborn seasonal beauty.

I take to painting, try to imitate Jean-Michel,

create faces with expressions of 

joy, gloom, anger, despair—

in ages of a child, aged, blonde, and old-aged—

in ranges of white, black, brown, and 

the versatility of light.

I resort to basketball. In a court set up in my backyard

practice shooting the ball into the hoop.

Sometimes I play alone yet overcome the solitude 

by living in the next throw, this time to make it a better one.

The music of the Beatles’ Come Together and Michael Jackson’s Thriller—

the song and beat rocking through the speakers

overwhelm me as I drive through the countryside flanked by green fields. 

I recite hymns of Lord Ram at an ancient temple,

sometimes so immersed it becomes a soliloquy.

Every chant of it chases the blues away that kept chasing me.

I engage in literature, sonnet to free verse,

a monologue or a dialogue, as an inspiration 

to those sharing my space.

I write poems to characterize myself in a comic vein.

I venture out in the open, take a sojourn at the beach.

I find solace in that I can challenge my challenge.

A signal of mental wellness:

At the end of the evening, relaxing in a chair, 

sipping tea, and acknowledging passers by.