Anxiety

Jan.15, 2002

An Ode to Anxiety

Dear anxiety, what a torture you can be
When you rear your sceptical head.
Any one efficient you dwindle
His skills in a jiffy.
You possess the mighty power
To turn the happiest face into gloomy sadness,
Just by the snap of a finger.
Your modus operandi is wondersome.
You occur as a thought in the mind
When the stomach, your eager aid
Fosters and nurses you.
The blood responds with like-minded willingness.
You don't ever come alone and
Bring your dear comrade, Mr. Pain with you.
And how eager is he to serve you.
He forms knots around ankles and knee-caps
Churns all within with an unseen ladle.
Makes a thousand butterflies strum around the heart
And a crore bees buzz about the ears,
Numbs the fingers to push the panic button.
You have the weapon to upset the mightiest of the lot,
to sit on the edge of their seat,
Twitching fingers, drawing in toes and knees.
You make them helpless
when they get a not from their boss
When their child gets sick
When their spouse is in a soup
When they enter into endless shouting matches
You get into them fully
After starting with a grain-sized space.
You wreak havoc of volcanic might.
There are a thousand things you can do.
But don't you be too proud
For you are not invincible.
We have found out ways to quell you.
All we have to do is to
Sit quietly with eyes closed
And watch how you work.
We know how you sneak in stealthily to spread
Through the sinews and conquer every nook and cranny.
Your dance of destruction is not for long.
We know now to usher in our friend calmness.
W just have to take a deep breath and see you writhe in pain.
To inch you out of us, we have to be happy and cheerful
Mean good to all our fellow humans.
A gentle pat, a caring word
Can send you scooting in distress.
We have learnt to master
Your natural chemistry and mind
Your days are numbered.
You wo stand in the way of our progress
You who loves to kill micron by micron
You who wants none to be happy.
Wait and watch. We are all out to get your head.
And once you die, peace, cheer and happiness alone will prevail.

- Akila (an earlier form of myself.)