All posts by Shantanu Baruah

A #writer driven by passion, a #healthcare thought leader by profession and a #technologist by heart with #entrepreneurship bend of mind #aspiringauthor

The Creeping Shadow

Hiding behind the curtains of the dilapidated room
she hoped he wouldn’t notice her,
the heaving from the recent escape hadn’t stop
and her snuffle was breaking the monotony of the assumed silence

It was cold as hell,
but the beads of sweat
were fast covering her temple,
pulled by the gravity
finding its way
rolling down her nose
and her perspiring visage,
tickling her on its descend

She dared to raise her hand to rest her sensation,
and during the tussle with her mind, unaware,
in an attempt to put her urge to rest
she scratched her countenance
and in the process
she made the table next to her wobble

The empty goblet on the table rushed down,
and before she could comprehend
it crashed mercilessly on the ground
shattering to million pieces
making a few shards pierced her skin,
and the unruly blood dripped on the floor

But the gore was least of her worries,
what troubled her the most
was the cacophony she created
and her worst fears became true
when she saw an obnoxious shadow
falling on the tainted pale curtain
formed by the lone dim light on the wall

Unsure what to do
she pressed her eyes hard
but she couldn’t escape the hand that approached her
she screamed on top of her lung
but it didn’t help,
for the grip on her shoulder was steadily becoming firm

she squealed again
this time her voice got curtailed in her throat like a lump thwarted in disdain
and with a sudden jerk
she raised her head
only to realize it was just a dream

Though she was transiently out of the plight
her fears were still very much alive,
the dream was unreal,
but the evil standing next to her
and his atrocities were real,
making her restless,
delirious,
and aberrantly despising each one of her long treasured beliefs

Copyright © Shantanu Baruah

Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Shantanu Baruah and ckonfab.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Peer Pressure

I don’t drink. Not even as a social drinker. Often I am in a situation where my friends, colleagues tease me for being such a tight ass.

I am health conscious and always watch what I eat. My travel and nature of job often land me in a situation where I get scornful eyes for not indulging. Some even go further and take it as an insult.

I am grown up now, but I had my moments in the past when I almost gave in to such a social stigma. When I surrendered to situations, letting go of my long-held principles, afraid of getting left out. But soon I realized what I was made up of and refused to succumb, for some miscreant mind perturbations.

Hence, growing up I was never part of the coolest group, neither was officially invited to some of the crazy outings nor being popular amongst the popular girls, for my sober outlook was my taboo. A deterrent obstacle that refrained me from enjoying so-called worldly vices.

I won’t lie. At times I was shattered and devastated. My self-confidence was at rock bottom and the sheer feeling of being left out was detrimental. But there was an unseen force that held me together. And I learned to be happy within the realm of my self-governed principles. Soon I realized I was not alone, there were many like me. I understood how I was blurred by some superficial glaze. And how it overpowered all the goodness that existed in the world.

The day my self-realization became strong, I was able to pick the signals from the noise and life was beautiful. I made my share of friends and had my quantum of fun, for the definition of fun is relative, it is an individual perspective. Once you stop running after things because of peer pressure and focus on what actually makes you happy, you will see the outlook I am drawing.

Till today I face the same question from my colleagues and friends and all I do is smile and say to myself, I have my share of happiness. I have nothing against any of the choices my friends make. I don’t detest them or look at them with aberrant eyes. In the end, it is their definition of happiness and I have chosen mine. And both can happily coexist.

So, my friends here is a little bit of advice. Don’t go after things just because you are afraid of being left out. Stick to your principles and enjoy life on your own terms.

Copyright © Shantanu Baruah

Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Shantanu Baruah and ckonfab.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

The Reluctant Mind

Copyright © Shantanu Baruah

Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Shantanu Baruah and ckonfab.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Complex Love

My love is complex,
for I am often lost
in the ensemble of your myriad beauty, and obscurity of your aberrant thoughts,
and my expression thus are nothing but
thoughts of many conflicting minds,
like some artistic imagination,
entangled in some labyrinth of strings,
convoluted in an intricate utterance called love

Copyright © Shantanu Baruah

Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Shantanu Baruah and ckonfab.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Our Love

How we borrowed numerous thoughts
from the magical creations of this world
like the chirping from birds,
and the whistling from winds,
the coldness from mist
and the hues from the evening skies’ dream

How we weaved them into
the strings of hope and faith
some called it absurd
few labeled it as insanity
for us it was nothing but an expression of blissful love

Copyright © Shantanu Baruah

Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Shantanu Baruah and ckonfab.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.