Come, sit beside me...

But, still, be gentle with yourself.

By Arjun Janah

You say that you are troubled, weary—worn 

By all that you have borne and others bear.

You seek advice—and yet I fumble, since

I too am often lost in grief and fear.

.

But come and sit beside me.

I am old

And yet no wiser now than in my youth.

So what can I prescribe that would suffice

To cure your ailments in a world in which

So much is broken and has gone amiss?

.

******

.

Impatience is a marker of our times,

Yet patience is what's often needed most.

Attention that is deep and is sustained

Can see beneath the surface and divine

The truths that words alone cannot express—

And so can serve to heal our sundry plagues.

.

Beware of lords and kings and autocrats

And those who always need to puff themselves.

Embrace the truly humble.

Seek them out.

Appoint such men and women to the roles

Most critical, including in the home.

If possible, or else where needed most.

.

******

The self impedes, where duty beckons most.

So try to leave the self and all its weight 

Behind.

Attend to work at hand.

Rejoice

When you have found a chance to be of use.

.

But still be gentle with yourself. You are

As much in need of love and caring now

As when you were an infant.

So it is

With all of us

however tough we seem.

.

So leave a little time to care for self,

So you can care for others with a will.

.

******

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Value virtues old and tested, true—

Like patience, kindness, tact, and diligence.

The human world is built on care and love.

No infant would survive, no child would learn

Without at least a being who had cared.

.

Beware of 'high and low'.

Eschew the pomp

That’s so pollutes the public offices.

.

Along with virtues, vices still abound.

So greeds and lusts compound our negligence,

As apathy and hatred vie with these

To quell the conscience, breeding cruelties.

.

******

Be clear of sight—and sound of head and heart.

Amid the clamor, labor quietly.

Remember, work delivers its reward

In satisfaction, not in praise or cash.

Be grateful for the things that you receive,

However small, and count each blessing twice.

Forgive the ones who’ve hurt you. Mind them not,

For they distract you from the kinder acts

Of others.

Try to pay your daily dues,

And sleep contented.

Be at peace within.

.

What more is there to say?

I trust you know,

Within yourself, what’s true and what is false.

Be open-hearted, open-minded.

Listen,

see.

Be undeterred by human frailties,

Remain at peace

and persevere.

May all the Buddhas guide you through your days.

.

******

I’m done.

So come, let’s walk a little while

And even here, amidst the rubble, smile,

As does that orphan, there, who limps and plays,

With memories of those who’ve left—and grief,

And hope remaining still, for brighter days

That may not ever come, except in dreams,

In which she still can hear her siblings’ screams.

.

Friday, August 29, 2025

Berkeley, California.

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Arjun Janah is a retired New York City public school teacher who grew up in Kolkata and studied in Delhi. He spent a few weeks in a refugee camp in Bongaon, West Bengal, in the summer of 1971, and this experience began to shape many of his views. He went to the USA in 1975 to do his doctorate in physics and for family reasons. He had been active in his teacher's union in New York. He has been following the events in Palestine for a long time and many of his writings over the past two years have had to do with those. His mother, Sobha, was a research scientist and a physician. His father, Sunil, was a documentary photographer. His late sister, Monua, was a journalist. He is married to another immigrant, Wai Sin, from Hong Kong, China, who still works in his last school. They have no children. He began to find some solace through writing poems in the 2000s. He has been stuck for almost three years in Berkeley, California, but his permanent residence is in Brooklyn, New York.