Risk and Return

Risk and Return


You join a hunt, you know your odds, nine times out of ten,
You'll come back safe, maybe sans loot, but back in safe haven.
What happens on the tenth run though? You kill or get beaten,
You carry home a trophy prized, or arrive in a coffin.

The rules of game are clear as day, you have no choice but to play,
The night is descending fast and quick, just pick you gear without delay
A bow and arrow to strike from far, or a spear that can kill the prey,
You've been starved for long, no time to lose, quickly join the fray.

We know you are weak, in body and spirit, and want to rest a while,
The prize has been sighted, so buckle up fast- you have to run another mile!
Not only for you, for your family and clan, don't let this go futile,
Bring home a catch that is big and bold, and let everyone bask and smile.

Risking all you've got, you pledge to give it all, now that its your turn,
But the reality of a ruin, and an uncle point, make you sheepishly return.

The Magician - II

 

This is a poem spread across multiple pages. Please read in order. Please click on links below to read the earlier passages from the poem.

The Fool - I.
The Fool - II.
The Fool - III.
The Fool - IV.
The Fool - V.
The Fool - VI.
The Fool - VII.
The Fool - VIII.
The Fool - IX.
The Fool - X.
The Fool - XI. 
The Fool-XII. 
The Magician-I. 

Don’t tell us like the Fool, the Magician can fall,
if they all keep failing, who will answer the call,
the hero’s call of adventure, and unrelenting fun
more light-hearted perhaps they can easily run
the grim distance to be covered, for the quest to end
but how to cover it alone - everyone is at wits end!
How about a relay of sorts, let the baton be passed,
Let the Magician take over, from when the Fool passed.
Let the Fool rest for a while, let the Magician hog the light,
Anyway magicians are a better bet, few fools are ever right.
The Fool has completed his job, that of initiating the quest
The Magician is more than capable of finishing the rest.
Or is he as strong as he appears- is it not all but a grand projection?
isn’t it his tricks that make it seem- that the roots didn't lay in rejection.

Scorned by love, and dismissed by life
not measuring in his own eyes, belittled by wife
The Magician lived a dual life - one in which he ruled
and in the other felt powerless, helpless and doomed
While to the world he could lift mountains, or make them disappear
his inner world consisted, of constant anxiety and fear,
Fear of being discovered, fear of being a fraud,
of not getting standing ovations, of not getting applaud
this was his chance to shine - or so we would like to convince him
but remember he’s no fool, its not easy for us to con him
Only if there is genuinely something in it, for the magician’s pride
can we hope to enlist him - and take him for a ride.
For this will be a ride to remember, revealing to Magician his fate
whether he’s a common trickster or a man with extraordinary sleight!

For sleight of hand is not enough, in what he needs to do
He needs to put together the Fool again, reignite his bravado
Once shaken and stirred, its not easy to gain composure,
But isn't this the Magician’s forte, isn't it as per his stature!
He’s renowned for calm under duress, and for rejoining in flash
the people that have been disembodied, broken in spirit and flesh
broken to the point, where the quest seems meaningless,
will he rekindle their fires - let’s hope- God bless
the Magician for agreeing, to heal the Fool,
he’s really in charge here, the Mr Cool,
he can heal whats broken, or so he thinks,
hasn't healed himself in years, God he stinks!
Let the healing begin from self, Magician heal thyself
Let the journey start afresh, let the past be damned!

The burden of past, the shame of withdrawing from it all,
hiding behind a facade, appearing majestic and tall
The Magician is in a quandary- whom he attend at first,
The Fool and his broken arm, or look inward in disgust
and come up to terms with what he couldn't achieve earlier,
but given this second chance, can redeem and overcome fear
of being who he is- a common and ordinarily resilient man
no magician or superhero- nor Robin nor Batman!
Who’s apprentice and who’s master only time will tell
for now let the Magician tend to Fool, who so recklessly fell
and broke his arm, but more his drive to succeed,
now if he can get out of bed, that is miracle indeed
Each morning the pain of not getting up charged
drys up his resolve- leaves him parched.

If the Fool has called it quits, the Magician is resolved
he wants to heal the fool, make him anew in his mould
make him strong to last the path, that is bound to be rough
make him tall and majestic, and like the Magician tough.
If deception is what makes you win, so be it
if trickery does the trick, lets use it!
Lets trick the Fool - he’s still strong and intact.
Lets trick the Magician - he’s doing some act
that is noble and redeeming, that can overcome his sins-
by fooling the duo, we, the people, wins.
and let the Magician trick the Fool, as to his capabilities and charm
as long as everything moves the quest, theres no harm
before the fool can be deceived as to the Magician’s craft
the Magician needs to be comfortable with his art!

For only by deceiving oneself, can one hope to convince
and make the Fool ready for quest, no qualms, without wince
the Magician needs to create, a story about his self worth
that being a magician and healing- is by itself worth
healing the people who are broken from the ordinariness of life
and broken from the extraordinary stressors, the traumas, the strife
for everyone, the Magician, has something in his magic box,
delighting everyone with their favourites- oh the cunning fox
he knows what smells you like, what perfumes you spray,
he can make you believe as if he is the hopeful ray
who can see through your facades and still not use it against you
but entertain and heal, and create a fantasy world new
where you forget your pain, for a moment or two
and get drawn in his world, like a glue.

The Watchful Night

It has come to an end - the day, not your quest!
You buckle up your resolve, you simply can't rest.
The stakes are too high- its either now or never!
The hunt is so near - and now's no time to waver.

You are ready to lie low- in the dark night of the soul
Only to pounce and grab it, the moment it shines again-your goal!
Good things come to those who wait, Slow trees bear the best fruits,
You can plan and scheme and prepare some more - to tackle the problem at its roots.

When the night was dark and the vision obscured, all you could discern was a lemon or two,
Making a lemonade drink, you consoled yourself,  don't worry- this shall'th pass too!
You stretch and arc to take your aim, now that the dawn is near,
It's a matter of time, before it's light again, and the target is crystal clear.

As the silent night comes to an end, you think you have finally discovered your voice
Only to lose it in the hustle and bustle, as the day matures and the moment flies.

The Magician - I

Via Wikipedia

This is a poem spread across multiple pages. Please read in order. Please click on links below to read the earlier passages from the poem.

The Fool - I.
The Fool - II.
The Fool - III.
The Fool - IV.
The Fool - V.
The Fool - VI.
The Fool - VII.
The Fool - VIII.
The Fool - IX.
The Fool - X.
The Fool - XI. 
The Fool-XII.


The fall came swift, though it was building for some time,
Now that the Fool has finally jumped, do we care a dime
Whether he survived or lived, to see another day,
The jump is done with, and over, and now if we may,
Move to the next part, where The Magician finally arrives,
To add some touches of magic, to our humdrum lives.
Will he whisk the Fool swiftly, as the Fool races downhill?
And is tumbling down a slope, that would surely kill.
But when the Magician arrives, the Fool is least on our mind,
The Magician casts a spell, which is of its kind,
We can’t see past illusions- that are just sleights of hand
But are mesmerised by tricks and under his hypnotic command
We are told to forget about the past-  and we gently comply,
Focus shifts from The Fools fall - to how the Magician can fly!

For the Magician just appeared, standing tall and majestic,
Flying in the air, without even a broom or stick,
Neither a witch nor a wizard, this was a trickster of kind,
Someone used to take chances, playing huge stakes blind
Blind-folded getting out, from a trunk submerged in sea,
Hands locked, legs locked, not needing a Key
His was an Ordinary Magic, the art of resilience,
Of bouncing back from failures, of being at ease
Between victory and failure, he remained steadfast
He had moved forward – leaving behind his past
His wand was made of bamboo, more like a flute
And his ending up being a magician was a total fluke.
By some stroke of luck, he had learnt the secret art
having no special powers- he was just playing his part.

Bringing joy to people’s life, sensitive to what they pine-
A relief from life’s banality- turning water to wine.
His magic made them believe, in things that were not true,
With his bag of tricks - he made a following of thousands new
Fools that were now thinking, that anything can be done
And that the Grail can be brought easily - by literally any one!
What was needed now, was to move from illusion to reality,
Would the Magician live up to the hype - or end up all pity.
On the face of it, The Magician, looks calm and composed,
and his clothes and props give an appearance- that we can boast
that never in a century have our prospects been so bright
the Grail is oh so near, and we have never been more right.
Except that he doesn't know magic a dime,
only how to look, and make look, sublime.

For even the tricks he knows, are far and - in between-
Some just useless, amusing - that could just please the Queen-
and queen of his heart - who had first made him trick
and treated him with treachery, made him fast and quick
Booed away from love, he had wowed to fight
This is his last chance to shine- can he make things right?
If he manages to stir this crowd, towards fighting well,
He can maybe redeem himself - and rest in Hell.
He may have failed at Love, but he did not fail in life,
Quite mediocre at Magic - but who stopped the strife.
And brought peace to the world, a smile on the face he loves
and gently from his hat pulled out a bunch of white doves.
The Magician ought to use his aura, that is so commanding
to work for peace and love, the eternal quest notwithstanding,

But is it possible to strive for Peace, when the Grail is still sought
and in the name of King and Queen, many battles fought.
The Magician is after all, a courtier to powers-that-be
And is bound by his loyalty- after a point he cannot see
That the people pining for Magic are not ones after the Grail
They just want to let loose- they are not the ones who can’t fail.
They just want to escape from life, not to confront it head on
These are a useless lot for Quest, not to be relied on
What the Magician has, are those who have already given up
What he needs instead, are fools that are hooked to the cup
he can make appear the Grail within reach, conjuring from thin air
But how to fill the hearts with desire,  longing and the will to dare
Is a problem confronting him tonight, as he contemplates his fate,
But haven't we forgotten the Fool, is the Magician late or is Fool now Late?

The magician had indeed come flying, as the fool was tumbling down,
But before he could intervene the fool had broken his crown
And lay dead on the bedrock, of the valley below
His neck separated from body, at a distance, slightly low,
Was his torso that was intact ,only the head was gone
And with that ends our hope – as the fool alone
Could have ended the war, could have ended the quest,
Now that he is gone, shall we let the story rest?
We still have the magician; don’t know what good he is,
Is he the humane answer or is he all biz?
The business of drawing crowds, and this time he has succeeded well,
A huge crowd has gathered,  clearly under his spell
The Fool’s neck removed from body, was an illusion of sort,
The fool is safe and sound- holy cow, and thank god!

The magician, with his tricks, had made the fool appear dead
Though alive and in one piece, the fall wasn’t on a rose-bed.
His neck was with his body, but his spirits were crushed,
More than bones or muscles, it was his heart that was hushed
Into silence- Now that he had fallen what was left to be proved!
His failure meant, the quest from the beginning was doomed
Though not his neck, but his hand was deeply fractured,
It was courtesy the magician’s tricks - he manufactured
An illusion so strong - people thought the Fool had taken,
everything in good stride- but the Fool was totally shaken.
Now it was the job of the magician to heal him anew
And when his body healed, let a quest begin new
However healing a fool is easier said than done,
The magician was not sure he was ready, so he begun.

Beginning before you are ready, is the Magician’s style
That’s how he met the queen – not through trickery or wile,
And committed to each other for the rest of life,
Finding courage to love, amidst the daily strife.
This Fool who jumped, from such a great height,
Seems like the pupil, who could be his apprentice, right?
These are some thoughts as the magician takes care of the fool
And nurtures him back to life from the deaths pool.
Let the fool die another day, let him be my pupil
Even if he didn’t end the quest, let the prophecy fulfill
That the one the magician saves, from the fall will end the quest
Whether the fool was saved from fall- is a technical point at best.
He did fall, and nearly died, so the oracle might have referenced him after all
but lending the hard learned secrets to a fool may lead to even the Magician’s fall .

The Scorching Day

With joy in heart, you start with glee, on the path to be wise and great;
Looking forward to, what lies in stock- Fall seven times, rise eight!
The path is hard- ought it be less? -Struggle shapes your character,
You've made your mind, that's the Way for you - never to deter!

Obstacles galore, no friends by side - you're made of harder stuff,
Don't backtrack now, don't think of rest- lest life call off your bluff!
The morning sun, once mild and soothe - is now but ball of heat,
Keep plodding on, keep chugging along- the day you can surely beat!

As evening falls, and shadows get long, the relief you feel is deep,
Not blinded by the sun anymore, you can feel the first doubts creep.
Is this path right? Will you come out clean- the woods are getting dark!
Or does wisdom lie, in peace and calm, and strolling in a park?

As luck will have, you come to a fork, and choose the well-worn bend,
Silently withering in the night, the dream comes to an end.

A Proposal

I know you care about me, this way or that,
Lets stop playing this game, of mouse and cat,
I don't know who's hunted and who's the prey,
but let the mouse cat meet, is all I pray.

so deep is this desire to get a closure,
but I fear further rejection, and private censure
that I have stopped tossing around, words like Love anymore
and my true feelings I'll curb and repress to the core

I want to reach out to you and reclaim your heart
yet cant make the first move, don't know where to start
in case I make a faux pass and you vanished as in past
will I be able to get back in my shell equally fast.

So I get down on my knees, simple and plain,
imploring: would you be my friend, again?

Sleep Apnea

Angry and bitter, hoping to get better,
Recollecting those incidents in the middle of nights,
Packed in a compartment, sometimes AC, sometimes sleeper,
Afraid to sleep, what if the sleep got deeper,

And the loud noise of snoring, disturbed the fellow travelers,
Each weary from her travel, or just not in the right mood,
Mortally afraid of causing a fuss, of triggering some babbler,
And causing shame to the family who have to apologize for the dabbler.

The fool, who refused diagnosis, or a visit to the clinic,
Who knew it would be apnea, but didn't want to be treated,
Was inflicting on his family the daily torture of snores,
But won't go to the doctor unless reminded of those bores.

Quality Of Sleep be damned,there could have been some mishap,
Thank Mom you took me to the doctor, and put me on BiPaP.