Tuesday, July 24, 2012

The Fool- XII

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. 

But isn’t life already empty, and that too as of now,
Who tackles the ‘why’ questions, only those of ‘how’
How to get the Grail, how to make that first move;
How to get involved in the quest, how to again prove,
How to start and last a journey- without aim or sight,
How to couch one’s failures as a fight for right.
How to please the king, how to heal the wounds,
Not of king- but self- How to outgrow Love’s boons,
For Love had protected and Love had scorned,
There are scars running deep, and skin that’s scorched,
How to be One with the quest, How to be The One of the quest
And by losing one’s identity, how one can finally rest
The fire that was burning – these are questions on fool’s mind,
But not asking the ‘why’ questions, is not a degree error, it’s an error of kind.

For you may know the roads to riches,
 and you may know just how to lie,
And you may know just how to touch her,
and you may know just how to cry,
But if you don’t know why you are lying,
and have no clues why you cry
You may as well be a Fool and keep vying,
She’ll leave you for the other guy,
For its not what you say that matters,
And how you say it, hardly counts,
what she cares for is ‘why’ you said it,
you may say I love you, but if to her it sounds,
a pretext to get cozy, and not the heart’s final surrender
you may as well forget her, and join the plunder.

The plunder of the quest where the whys are replaced by the hows
You are so occupied with the journey, you lose sight of the house,
That should have been your end goal, something to return to after the quest
A place one can call home, a place where one can finally rest
But all you care for now is how to leave loves shadow behind
And from ashes rise to victory, a phoenix on the climb
How to reinvent yourself- all you care it to win,  
What purpose the Grail serves, is to you a bit dim.
Why Grail, Why Quests, why kings, why wounds,
Why think of oneself as divine like Suns and Moons,
Why not satisfied with a humdrum life, a wife,
Why needs for affairs, why romance and to be strife,
Why the first step, why the last, why the  desire to be the Key,
The fool desperately needs to ask the question – why Me?

Why it’s up to the fool to end the quest
What crime has he committed, at best,
His ignorance and lack of guile may suggest
He’s upto the task, that’s no excuse, lest
From now onwards every fool be crucified
And in the quests of kings, shamelessly sacrificed
He may be capable of ending the quest,
For quests can be ended only in jest,
Anyone serious and focused on winning
Will only against the tide be swimming
By pitting against millions who want to win
The knights make the quests end look grim.
Only a fool with a mocking disdain of losing,
Can make everyone a winner, and the quest be losing.

So we agree why the Fool should take that step,
Only he can end the quest, make us all hap,
And we can bet our lives, that the Fool he is,
He won’t ask the question, why him, not us,
Let him do for us, what we should do for ourselves,
Losing pawns is Ok in a battle of Knights and Ewe,
Why did he ever love; why love cast its spell strong              
Now hiding from cupids arrow, he is in our command
He has to overcome the pain, if he has to love anew,
He has to forget the many and focus on few
The few knight exemplars that are awed and proud,
And for now let the sun hide behind the cloud
Let this quest be ended, let the Grail be sought,
Today if need be, his soul be bought!

In a Faustian deal to cope with loves stings and arrows,
Let’s get the Fool on our side- ready to go to gallows,
And eager for quest, believing it will liberate his soul,
Lets turn him into a hero, or at least make him bold,
To face his fate , that was not chosen by him,
But to take that first step, we have to stroke his whim
Only by happenstance can a Fool start a journey so fraught
Even if we, the devils, have his soul negotiated and bought.
We must take precautions lest he hear a whimper or the soul’s cry
For in a moment of insight, if he asks the question why,
Why trade his soul for pain, or for love or for gain,
Why engage in the quest, when the end is simple and plain,
In that asking of why, we may lose our savior for good,
But if the fool asks why- we don’t know- he keeps that under hood.

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