Brinda Naidu,
The Dreamy Poet
Brinda Naidu
WHO I am
I am a woman, an ordinary woman – no different from any other. I have the company of my laughter, tears, hopes and fears to fill my days. I am an ordinary woman.
I am an extraordinary woman – different from any other. I have walked a narrow and difficult path, edging my way to recovery and allowing myself to embrace the gift of life in all its complexity and joy. I am an extraordinary woman.
I am Brinda: my parents’ child, my siblings’ sister, aunt to my nephews and niece. I am Brinda: a gem to my family, a treasure to my friends, the sole reason I am me. I am Brinda: a lone leaf of the holy basil, drifting in the breeze of the universe, silent and free.
I am a woman, an ordinary woman – no different from any other. I have the company of my laughter, tears, hopes and fears to fill my days. I am an ordinary woman.
I am an extraordinary woman – different from any other. I have walked a narrow and difficult path, edging my way to recovery and allowing myself to embrace the gift of life in all its complexity and joy. I am an extraordinary woman.
I am Brinda: my parents’ child, my siblings’ sister, aunt to my nephews and niece. I am Brinda: a gem to my family, a treasure to my friends, the sole reason I am me. I am Brinda: a lone leaf of the holy basil, drifting in the breeze of the universe, silent and free.
WHAT I Do
I have been writing poetry for over a decade, simply allowing words to spill forth onto paper. I don’t write to impress or make money, I merely write so that my soul has a voice.
I went through a very difficult time in my life in 2004 and wrote to heal myself. I poured my anguish and horror out, day-in day-out for months on end. After a while, the pain lessened and the words began to take on a lighter hue. I eventually wrote funny poems for my nephews and niece, so that I could hear them laugh.
In 2012, I was diagnosed with breast cancer and struggled for months on end with the devastating side effects of surgery, chemotherapy, radiotherapy and immunotherapy. It was not an easy journey and I had to face my mortality full-on. Once again, I channelled my pain and anger into poetry. I woke up every morning during chemotherapy looking forward to being able to write. Even though my mind slowed down (thanks to chemo brain) and my body weakened (there were days when I could barely lift my head), I told myself I could still write, I could still communicate my thoughts and feelings and I could still exist as part of this world. I refused to give up. There were times when I begged for an end to the treatment, curling up and crying for hours. Yet, after the tears were shed and my deep pain was acknowledged, I could accept my lot in life and keep going on.
I survive, because life’s too precious to let go. I survive, because life wants me to know. I survive, because I’m a survivor who can grow. I survive, because life’s river must flow.
I survive. I survive life.
Life is simply too short, capable of disappearing in a whisper. What’s mine today might be gone tomorrow, never having really been mine. Life is also long enough, repeating itself countless times till lessons are learnt. What’s unseen today might be seen tomorrow, never having really changed.
Life is life: irreplaceable, except only by death. The presence of death is unlike the absence of life… or are they one and the same? I often think about life and death; they are two opposing entities that need each other to exist. I believe the thread of duality runs through our existence. How much of me keeps you going and how much of you keeps me going? Perhaps I think too much for my own good, but I enjoy thinking. If I don’t think, I cease to exist. I am here only for that mere breath of the universe, totally significant yet absolutely insignificant in my meagre offering to the world.
WHY I Do
I have always loved words; I love the way they sound and the way they look. I grew up amongst books and hung out in the library rather often. I enjoyed reading, writing and telling my schoolmates stories.
It was many years later, in 1999, that I wrote my first poem. I considered it a poorly-worded poem, but a friend proclaimed it to be perfect. I think his encouragement then gave me the courage to write what my heart wanted to say. I still continue to write because it is part of my life. I see the pen as an extension of my body. I feel naked and useless without pen and paper because I don’t know how else to let my soul speak.
I have written a lot about living with cancer. Cancer has changed my life drastically, opening my eyes to what is truly important to me. I have come to appreciate the constraints with which I live and accept that there is only so much in my life that I can control. Life is grand — grander that I can ever be. I cannot call cancer a blessing, but I am thankful that I got cancer. If someone in my family was meant to have it, I am glad it was me. I would not want anyone in my family to go through this living nightmare. Cancer can make a person feel extremely isolated. Everyone in my family has a partner, has children, has somebody to hold. I am already alone. I am used to this loneliness, as painful as it is. Whatever loneliness that now comes my way has already existed before cancer.
I also write because I belong to a support group. Most of the members live in the US and they feel connected to me through my poems. I cannot say that I speak for all cancer patients because when I write, my words tell of my experience, my fear, my horror, my pain, my devastation of having to live with this horrid beast of an illness. I don’t write to give strength to anyone, I simply write to heal myself. If my words give voice to someone else’s thoughts and channels their pain out, then that’s just a gift from the universe, for I am but a mere vessel for communication.
LESSONS LEARNED
My Whisper could be Louder than your Scream:
My voice might not be the loudest but I believe I have a message to tell. As a patient, I had to make myself visible a number of times. Once, a medical professional explained certain procedures to my parents, ignoring me. Feeling slighted, I spoke up and expressed my view. Had I remained silent, frustration and bitterness would have festered within me, and I did not want that to happen. Needless to say, the staff member was taken aback because she had assumed I was incapable of comprehending the finer details of my treatment. I told her that every patient deserves the respect of having things spelt out clearly and honestly. I believe a person undergoing treatment deserves to be included in the conversation and be treated with dignity.
In the Midst of the Storm, I can Fall:
One afternoon, I broke down and said I could go no further with my treatment. Chemotherapy had been horrific and stripped me of all strength — I had been worn down to my core. It was very difficult for my parents to witness this, but it allowed them to see their child in all her vulnerability and humanness. I gave myself that space to abandon hope and weep because I knew I owed it to myself. I am a human being, void of any magical power. No warrior can fight relentlessly, and it is through failure and the acceptance of weakness that strength can begin to rise again. After I cried for a few hours, I felt better and found peace within. And because I had hit rock bottom, the only way left for me to go was up.
We shall never have this Moment again:
Life is short and can disappear in an instant. I saw fellow patients of every age and every single one of them knew not of what tomorrow would bring. I listened to other patients and caregivers speak of loved ones who had struggled with treatment and fought to stay alive. Even when things are looking good, somebody else’s life would be falling apart. Life is never perfect and every moment that passes can never be reclaimed. So, it is important to know your purpose in life and do what matters.
I am more than the deepest Sunset, more than the deep Blue Sea.
I am more than all the scars on my body. When I started losing my hair during chemo, I decided to shave it off. I did not wear a scarf because I did not see a bald head as unattractive and I did not want any child with cancer to think a bald head should be covered out of shame or embarrassment. I have scars on my chest and on my belly and I think I am no less attractive because of this. No matter what my body looks like, I am still beautiful: my soul is greater than the sum of my physical parts.
WORDS of WISDOM
I do not sound like teardrops, rainfall, the first breath of dawn or the last sigh of dusk. Do you consider the beating of my heart to be as beautiful as the sound of the universe?
We are all alive for a reason. Your purpose may differ from mine, yet we only have this one chance. Life is never perfect and it will throw challenges our way. Take every lesson that comes your way as an opportunity to learn and grow. The sky is limitless and we can do so much in this lifetime. We are all connected in some way and we in this existence together. Believe in yourself because you are part of this consciousness.
MUSIC
Just Be
Lyrics by Brinda Naidu
Music by Ben Kranen
Verse 1
Don't let the world, get you down,
Don't let the day, make you frown,
Imagine, wearing a crown,
And keep your feet, on the ground.
On the ground
Your life, isn't empty,
Open your eyes, and you'll see,
I'm with you, you're never just 'me',
Now live your life, go on, just be
Go on, just be
Chorus
Come with me, and you'll see,
The world's not a big mystery;
Close your eyes, fantasize,
You can be, who you want to be
Verse 2
Some days, tears will fall,
Some days, you'll feel small,
So raise your head, and stand tall,
Touch the sky, you’ll have it all
You’ll have it all
Remember, listen to your heart,
'Cos that's where, you've got to start,
Stand up, stand apart,
Be yourself, no matter what.
No matter what.
Chorus
Come with me, and you'll see,
The world's not a big mystery;
Close your eyes, fantasize,
You can be, who you want to be
I have been writing poetry for over a decade, simply allowing words to spill forth onto paper. I don’t write to impress or make money, I merely write so that my soul has a voice.
I went through a very difficult time in my life in 2004 and wrote to heal myself. I poured my anguish and horror out, day-in day-out for months on end. After a while, the pain lessened and the words began to take on a lighter hue. I eventually wrote funny poems for my nephews and niece, so that I could hear them laugh.
In 2012, I was diagnosed with breast cancer and struggled for months on end with the devastating side effects of surgery, chemotherapy, radiotherapy and immunotherapy. It was not an easy journey and I had to face my mortality full-on. Once again, I channelled my pain and anger into poetry. I woke up every morning during chemotherapy looking forward to being able to write. Even though my mind slowed down (thanks to chemo brain) and my body weakened (there were days when I could barely lift my head), I told myself I could still write, I could still communicate my thoughts and feelings and I could still exist as part of this world. I refused to give up. There were times when I begged for an end to the treatment, curling up and crying for hours. Yet, after the tears were shed and my deep pain was acknowledged, I could accept my lot in life and keep going on.
I survive, because life’s too precious to let go. I survive, because life wants me to know. I survive, because I’m a survivor who can grow. I survive, because life’s river must flow.
I survive. I survive life.
Life is simply too short, capable of disappearing in a whisper. What’s mine today might be gone tomorrow, never having really been mine. Life is also long enough, repeating itself countless times till lessons are learnt. What’s unseen today might be seen tomorrow, never having really changed.
Life is life: irreplaceable, except only by death. The presence of death is unlike the absence of life… or are they one and the same? I often think about life and death; they are two opposing entities that need each other to exist. I believe the thread of duality runs through our existence. How much of me keeps you going and how much of you keeps me going? Perhaps I think too much for my own good, but I enjoy thinking. If I don’t think, I cease to exist. I am here only for that mere breath of the universe, totally significant yet absolutely insignificant in my meagre offering to the world.
WHY I Do
I have always loved words; I love the way they sound and the way they look. I grew up amongst books and hung out in the library rather often. I enjoyed reading, writing and telling my schoolmates stories.
It was many years later, in 1999, that I wrote my first poem. I considered it a poorly-worded poem, but a friend proclaimed it to be perfect. I think his encouragement then gave me the courage to write what my heart wanted to say. I still continue to write because it is part of my life. I see the pen as an extension of my body. I feel naked and useless without pen and paper because I don’t know how else to let my soul speak.
I have written a lot about living with cancer. Cancer has changed my life drastically, opening my eyes to what is truly important to me. I have come to appreciate the constraints with which I live and accept that there is only so much in my life that I can control. Life is grand — grander that I can ever be. I cannot call cancer a blessing, but I am thankful that I got cancer. If someone in my family was meant to have it, I am glad it was me. I would not want anyone in my family to go through this living nightmare. Cancer can make a person feel extremely isolated. Everyone in my family has a partner, has children, has somebody to hold. I am already alone. I am used to this loneliness, as painful as it is. Whatever loneliness that now comes my way has already existed before cancer.
I also write because I belong to a support group. Most of the members live in the US and they feel connected to me through my poems. I cannot say that I speak for all cancer patients because when I write, my words tell of my experience, my fear, my horror, my pain, my devastation of having to live with this horrid beast of an illness. I don’t write to give strength to anyone, I simply write to heal myself. If my words give voice to someone else’s thoughts and channels their pain out, then that’s just a gift from the universe, for I am but a mere vessel for communication.
LESSONS LEARNED
My Whisper could be Louder than your Scream:
My voice might not be the loudest but I believe I have a message to tell. As a patient, I had to make myself visible a number of times. Once, a medical professional explained certain procedures to my parents, ignoring me. Feeling slighted, I spoke up and expressed my view. Had I remained silent, frustration and bitterness would have festered within me, and I did not want that to happen. Needless to say, the staff member was taken aback because she had assumed I was incapable of comprehending the finer details of my treatment. I told her that every patient deserves the respect of having things spelt out clearly and honestly. I believe a person undergoing treatment deserves to be included in the conversation and be treated with dignity.
In the Midst of the Storm, I can Fall:
One afternoon, I broke down and said I could go no further with my treatment. Chemotherapy had been horrific and stripped me of all strength — I had been worn down to my core. It was very difficult for my parents to witness this, but it allowed them to see their child in all her vulnerability and humanness. I gave myself that space to abandon hope and weep because I knew I owed it to myself. I am a human being, void of any magical power. No warrior can fight relentlessly, and it is through failure and the acceptance of weakness that strength can begin to rise again. After I cried for a few hours, I felt better and found peace within. And because I had hit rock bottom, the only way left for me to go was up.
We shall never have this Moment again:
Life is short and can disappear in an instant. I saw fellow patients of every age and every single one of them knew not of what tomorrow would bring. I listened to other patients and caregivers speak of loved ones who had struggled with treatment and fought to stay alive. Even when things are looking good, somebody else’s life would be falling apart. Life is never perfect and every moment that passes can never be reclaimed. So, it is important to know your purpose in life and do what matters.
I am more than the deepest Sunset, more than the deep Blue Sea.
I am more than all the scars on my body. When I started losing my hair during chemo, I decided to shave it off. I did not wear a scarf because I did not see a bald head as unattractive and I did not want any child with cancer to think a bald head should be covered out of shame or embarrassment. I have scars on my chest and on my belly and I think I am no less attractive because of this. No matter what my body looks like, I am still beautiful: my soul is greater than the sum of my physical parts.
WORDS of WISDOM
I do not sound like teardrops, rainfall, the first breath of dawn or the last sigh of dusk. Do you consider the beating of my heart to be as beautiful as the sound of the universe?
We are all alive for a reason. Your purpose may differ from mine, yet we only have this one chance. Life is never perfect and it will throw challenges our way. Take every lesson that comes your way as an opportunity to learn and grow. The sky is limitless and we can do so much in this lifetime. We are all connected in some way and we in this existence together. Believe in yourself because you are part of this consciousness.
MUSIC
Just Be
Lyrics by Brinda Naidu
Music by Ben Kranen
Verse 1
Don't let the world, get you down,
Don't let the day, make you frown,
Imagine, wearing a crown,
And keep your feet, on the ground.
On the ground
Your life, isn't empty,
Open your eyes, and you'll see,
I'm with you, you're never just 'me',
Now live your life, go on, just be
Go on, just be
Chorus
Come with me, and you'll see,
The world's not a big mystery;
Close your eyes, fantasize,
You can be, who you want to be
Verse 2
Some days, tears will fall,
Some days, you'll feel small,
So raise your head, and stand tall,
Touch the sky, you’ll have it all
You’ll have it all
Remember, listen to your heart,
'Cos that's where, you've got to start,
Stand up, stand apart,
Be yourself, no matter what.
No matter what.
Chorus
Come with me, and you'll see,
The world's not a big mystery;
Close your eyes, fantasize,
You can be, who you want to be
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