The Fool - VI

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.

For Love is a journey, not unlike the quest,
It’s the in-betweens that matter, in the end you can rest
On your laurels or empty handed, it doesn’t matter a dime
Whether you win or lose- what matters is the grime
You collect while you travel, or whether you came out clean
Whether you were magnanimous in spirit, or were selfish and mean
And for winning took recourse to tricks that were vile
Or whether on your way you spread cheer and smile
For Love is not an object, it’s not a holy grail
That one has to find no matter- without slip or fail
It’s not something to hold, it’s a thing to share
It’s about where you have been and for what you care
It’s not an end in itself it’s a means to an end
the thing that grows more, the more you spend.

The fool has loved a little-and paid the price
Moved away from his past – no surprise
He hopes he will forget - the memories bad,
He doesn’t understand- it’s really sad,
That only memory of Love can guide him through
Without Love by his side, he’ll never make do
In the jungle out there that is waiting for him fast
Where beasts are many – it’s difficult to last
Even for a few days without a friend or guide
What joy are victories without love by his side
It’s a grim world of achievements –if it’s devoid of Love
It’s entirely up to him – whether he be an eagle or dove
But to act like a bird, he has to learn to fly
To be born again, he has to first die.


And rise form his ash like a phoenix does,
Rejuvenate himself – lose the warts and pus
And throw away the older persona that’s not true
For a newer life that is given but to few
A chance to reinvent his raison-de-etre
To find the right path and not to stray
From the journey that was always destined to be
His be-all and end-all – that was meant to be
His grail, and yet he forgot it and by Love got swamped
And in the previous life got eternally damned.
Doomed to fail both in Love and in his Quest
Pushed to oblivion- without life and zest
Just living a zombie life - devoid of qualia
Juts being another guy- inter alia.

That uncommon misery of being a common guy
Can be traded today with an ability to fly
To leap from a cliff and still be safe
To show extreme courage in danger grave
That bravura may suffice to redeem his soul
Even if he couldn’t fly- couldn’t reach his goal
Yet the courage to stir things as they were meant to be
A striving for meaning, a quest to be
Is a solace in itself and can alleviate the gloom
Of being a non-entity – of being still in the womb
And yearning for a birth that will set him free
Remove the chains of Love –fill him with glee
At having found the Grail and then rejoice
Giving birth to himself is his only choice.

One may forever postpone the journey or the quest
Deafen to one’s calling, let the beast within rest
Not lured by the grail or the damsels at stake
No heroic narrative- one can always make
A mediocre name and a life that stinks
That’s normal, boring and free of kinks
But in a haven safe- where one is used to be
No adventures or escapades or falling free
No need for dying, no need to be
No need for a makeover, no need to flee
From one’s past into a future that is uncertain and dark
That pitches the new and old in contrast stark
Just a humdrum existence marked by stasis and calm
Maybe a trace or two of Love-to soothe and balm.