Now, I still care about people’s feelings (and we won’t be humans if we stop doing that). But, I’ve stopped worrying about what people think about me.

Nevertheless, there was a time when I did worry about that. When I had stopped socializing, I had gotten a ton of reprisal. At that time, I had written this poem for myself.

Even now, whenever I get rebuked for something, I read this as an anthem. Instantly, I feel better about myself.

Here’s my first poem ever (as an adult)… 😀

*****

Call me weird,
Call me wasted,
Call me whatever.
How does it matter
What they chatter?
They, who suffer the dearth
Of their self-worth.

Call me vain,
Call me insane,
Call me whatever.
How does it matter
What they chatter?
They, whose lives are a bane
That snap in strain.

Call me smart,
Call me an art,
Call me whatever.
How does it matter
What they chatter?
They, who in tittle-tattle
Cover-up their inner rattle.

Call me a ghoul,
Call me an angel,
Call me whatever.
How does it matter
What they chatter?
They, whose hearts don’t care
And hands can’t wipe a tear.

*****

I had also made a poster for this (see the featured image). You can download it from my website here: Download.

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Sri Devi Om

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