The Fool's Quest

The Great Gambler

2026-06-02T23:46:24.815+05:30

We are all enamored by the IPO's, and the million dollar exit,

At some level we understand its luck, and not all a result of grit.

But the 9 out of 10 that fold up, and in shame and disgrace go bankrupt,

They don't come to mind that easily, when you decide to launch a start-up.

Everyone around you is a founder, building left and right,

How can you be left behind, and in a job keep sitting tight?

The stakes are high, and rest assured, you won't get a regular pay,

But whenever you'll get a client or funding, you'll be on seventh sky for the day.

You've invested a lot already, money, time, yourself,

To think of quitting after all this, is a betrayal in itself.

What are you if not a founder, you take risks, you gamble it all,

Even if your venture is just limping along, you start again, after the fall.

I can name all the biases and heuristics, that compel me to again and again start,

That may be the way the gambler's mind works, but I'll master the winning jackpot art.

Taming the Shrew

2026-06-02T19:11:33.182+05:30

Wild like the forest, I tempt you with my nerve,

The river within overflows, with joie de vivre.

My heedlessness unsettles you, mocks you no end,

You *have* to domesticate me, to your will bend.

Nourishing like the field, I satisfy your whim,

Like a canal I'm straightened, and become bound to him.

The one who plows and injures, reaps the reward,

Until I become barren, and he can no longer afford.

Desolate like the fallow land, I'm all but ignored,

The stream has dried up, maybe he has become bored.

I'll bear fruit again, just give me some time and space,

Let my wilderness seep out, I'll become fertile by God's grace.

No one has asked me, what *I* want to be,

Label me all you want, I just want to be free.

Fighting a Crisis

2026-06-01T16:06:57.720+05:30

A crisis is brewing, I'll rise to the occasion,

I'm getting dehydrated, sapped of my passion.

Will I magically overcome, when the crisis becomes real,

Have I trained enough for this day? Were my priorities clear?

They say to live in the present, is what we human beings are meant,

The past and future will remain, but the moment will soon be spent.

I have instead found it wise, to prepare diligently for the future,

So when the crisis is finally upon you, you don't end up being a loser.

If you want to emerge stronger, better prepare well in advance,

Or you might not even survive, so don't goof up and take a chance.

It's in peacetime that you can prepare, not when surrounded in wartime,

To enjoy the present, and not sweat, is to bleed when fighting, and a crime.

I have a long time seen it coming, and now this crisis I've finally hit,

My training has prepared me, not to flail, but in the moment sit.

The Three Metamorphoses

2026-05-30T11:20:01.100+05:30

I carry the weight, of tradition on my back,

I must obey the rules, the freedom to explore I lack.

I'm a camel providing stability, like the solid tree,

I defer without questioning, to the powers that be.

In time, I rebel, question every 'thou shalt ',

In the flame of my defiance, I myself melt.

I'm a lion roaring, I will turn to ashes if need be,

I bring down the structures, but struggle to be truly free.

I play with the ashes, mix the soil nearby,

Create new forms and rules, to the past say bye.

I'm a child beginning anew, there's innocence in my stride,

Like a phoenix, I keep rising, from freedom I don't hide.

I've grown through the stages, I know what being free is like,

I both accept and create my fate, can be the wise old man or childlike.

Invoking the Muse

2026-05-20T01:24:50.623+05:30

Go ahead, read that book, connect the dots,

Unleash the inner vulture, feast on the thoughts.

There's nothing original, just regurgitated rot,

To repackage old wisdom, is the human lot.

You can summon the muse, at your will and behest,

You take great pride in your craft, you are the absolute best.

A creator par excellence, you lean on others' shoulders,

A David sculpting himself, you chip off on their boulders.

One day, what happens, when their ideas don't appeal,

Do you suddenly realize, you are human and can feel?

You don't need to synthesize, just pour what's in your heart,

The poem may turn out empty, but you'd rediscover your art.

Enough of hiding behind sonnets, written as a reaction to others' views,

Let emotions ooze down as ink, filling the page, and your life, with blues.

Down, and Almost Out

2026-05-13T00:31:30.202+05:30

Relationships get tangled, the web crumbles down,

Caught in the cross-hairs, you're fearing a meltdown.

You are struggling to escape, freedom comes at a price,

By severing the suffocating ties, you are no longer 'cool' or 'nice'.

The heart gets wounded, there's blood all around,

The Shylock hasn't forgotten, he's out for his pound.

You carve a piece of yourself, try to settle the debt,

Wrap a bandage around the emptiness, a secret well kept.

The spirit gets broken, the whole universe looks strange,

What was once within arm's grasp, is now out of range.

You crawl, you scramble, the world simply doesn't heed,

The one mocking from afar- to let go is what you need.

When you're pinned down and out of breath, it's OK to concede defeat,

There's glory in being Knocked Out, but wisdom in getting back on feet.

Dreams Unlimited

2026-05-10T17:25:47.426+05:30

Dreams deferred, are but dreams lost,

To dream itself, is to pay a high cost.

You lie awake, not sure what's true,

Sneak back to sleep, feeling blue.

Dreams recur, or are they nightmares?

You miss exams, are unprepared, who cares?

Finding yourself naked, in the street,

Or falling from heaven, on your feet.

The dreams haunting me, are quirky and strange,

I'm at a buffet party, stuffing my plate to the edge.

A momentary lapse, the plate is toppled and gone,

I'm hungry as before, the party's over, and I'm alone.

Do dreams have meaning? Should I have added what I need?

Does the overflowing plate, signify my bad luck or plain greed?

PS: This poem was first published on Medium here.

Maximising the RoI

2026-04-12T23:42:00.000+05:30

Subscriptions galore, a silent guilt hangs on,

New movies to watch, the month's almost gone.

That's money down the drain, for every serial I don't watch,

In a bid to recoup investment, I watch drivel non-stop.

A pile full of books, makes the load of guilt high,

Their price depreciated, still lying unread, I sigh.

Every waking moment, I don't read and assimilate,

The knowledge becomes outdated, arrives a bit too late.

I need an AI assistant, to squeeze the best RoI,

It would watch movies for me, and not just curate for my eye.

It would summarize books and seasons, I'll be able to talk smart,

As it optimizes my attention, I would have mastered the art.

They say to gain control over your life, sometimes you need to do less,

Make peace with the unwatched movies, and of unread books don't stress.

Amor Fati

2026-04-07T12:08:00.001+05:30

What is, is; enjoy the present,

Don't overstretch, or be hellbent,

To create your future, give birth to a new time,

Or drown in misery, on having lost your prime.

10 years back, you pined to be here,

Don't spend the next 10, trying to be there.

Don't spoil what you have, by desiring what you lack,

Rejoice in the moment, get your life back on track.

You had a blueprint, but territory differs from the map,

There'll always be a chasm; stop living in the gap.

Between the ideal and the actual, life gently slips by,

To the perennial new aspirations, you need to say bye.

Amor Fati, learn to love your fate,

Appreciate the earth, heaven can surely wait.

Which One is Supreme?

2026-04-03T00:30:00.001+05:30

As you sow, so shall you reap, is the law of Karma,

Bad deeds can curse you to eternal hell, good deeds can elevate your varna.

The world is determined; every effect has a cause, you can't beat your destiny,

Deeds from the past can haunt your life, crown you a hero, or bless you with ignominy.

Desire is the root cause of all beginnings, is the law of Kama,

Be it a child or novel solutions, one has to get sucked into this world drama.

There is free will and agency, of course, you can make a random choice,

When everyone's driven. by their passions, there's unpredictability, chaos, and noise.

To place society's interests beyond one's own is the law of Dharma,

It's to be guided by a sense of duty, which doesn't change but is sort of perma.

We're neither determined nor totally free; we are bound by constraints and laws,

That if we choose for once, we choose for all times, should give us reason to pause.

The Vishnu is stuck in a Karmic loop, Brahma's desires leave him disgraced,

The Shiva performs his duty, come what may, the Trinity within me be praised.

Daring Greatly

2026-03-26T22:17:00.000+05:30

Problems galore, it’s a literal war front,

The call is strong, to pull off a stunt.

The economy provides cover, lets me lie low,

In the age of AI layoffs, passion needs to burn slow.

If not a prisoner of the economy, I would have gone for the kill,

Let the situation improve, before showing valour, pay the bill.

It’s not just a risky proposition, where there’s a probability of loss,

It’s daring greatly despite knowing, your life may go for a toss.

It’s true that the more I dare, the more I vote for myself,

The economic excuse cripples, this adventure I can’t help.

Due to a lack of courage, I can’t put my life on hold,

Never mind the bourses crashing, or tanking prices of gold.

To dare greatly within constraints, is not a foolishness or crime,

You’ll never be able to leap, if you just wait for the right time.

PS: This poem was partially inspired by reading this Medium article and was first published on my Medium blog here.

To Pee or Not to Pee

2026-03-25T23:46:00.001+05:30

I have a mild urge, to urinate,

No restrooms in sight, it'll have to wait.

I'm firmly in control, calling the shots,

But the experimenter, made me drink a lots.

The urge has become moderate, pressure building up,

Have to control my impulses, can't leave in a huff.

The impulse control spreads, to other self-control domains,

I give up a small treat now, so tomorrow's luncheon remains.

The urge is now urgent, I have to bladder void,

Experiments like this, in the future, I'll avoid.

I'm almost like a drunkard, deprived of sleep,

Can't think through straight, or my attention keep.

The urge is fulfilled, now I no longer need to pee,

This research got an IgNobel, not everything's about me.

PS: This poem was inspired by the research that got awarded the IgNobel prize for Medicine in 2011.

An On-Demand Poem

2026-03-21T18:37:52.286+05:30

I've all but forgotten, the art and craft,

Some rhymes, some rhythm, just add to cart,

On checkout, don't forget, to add the coupon code,

Enjoy within minutes, a limerick or an ode.

Most days it's the standard, 14-line drills,

I can tweak the format, or make a quick one, no frills.

I'll customise the sonnet, to suit your taste,

Please savour the delicacy, don't gobble in haste.

You demand a sentence-long poem, and I certainly can,

Maybe Haiku is the template, worth your attention span.

I can stretch the sentence long, or make a short,

In the age of reels, I need to adapt, you exhort.

Playing with words but losing its soul,

Hashtag WorldPoetryDay, I have met my goal.

Being a Poppy

2026-03-19T20:54:55.695+05:30

Don’t be afraid to be a poppy, in a field full of daffodils,
Be it their scorn or enchantment, it's all grist for the mill.
They laughed at Einstein, they also laughed at Bozo, the clown,
If you don’t blossom or break through the cracks, on you I’ll forever frown.

For when a poppy pushes up, through the dark earth to the spring,
It just knows in its heart that sunshine spring will bring.
It shows courage against odds and deeply values life,
And believes in miracles that are born of strife.

When Lady April brings the daffodils, the springing grasses, and warm April rains,
Does your Poppyness torment you, fill you with doubt and pain?
Would it reassure you if I pointed, I’ve been the odd man out,
Does that message assuage you, so you can stop whining and shout?

Whether to be a poppy or a daffodil, I have not given you the choice,
This whole piece is a dramatic monologue, where, my dear, you don’t have a voice!

PS: This poem was written as a response to this prompt on Scrittura and first published on Medium here.

Fallen

2026-03-13T13:50:00.000+05:30

When all around you is winter, it's folly to grow shoots,

Let go of the leaves and flowers, just focus on your roots.

In summer the leaves are assets- they give you bread and wine,

In winter sans the sun's sweet help, losing them would be so fine.

Oh behold the twist of fate, they are now a liability,

By losing water, to leave you dead, is their new ability.

When you brush aside, let leaves fall, is that being opportunistic?

Are you ashamed, of your giving up, as you're reduced to a naked stick?

I might be dead on the outside, I am growing my roots deep,

I know I'll welcome leaves again, so on their passing I don't weep.

I use this time to build reserves, I trust the wheel will turn,

The fallen leaves become compost, that's the way I churn.

When all around you is winter, surely, the spring is round the block,

For all my bravado and wisdom, the fallen leaves still mock.

Holi Fun

2026-03-04T00:09:00.001+05:30

From my 7th-floor balcony, I watch the rowdy crowd,

Close the soundproof windows, to drown music that's loud.

A part of me wants to come down, join in all the fun,

But for the most part, I look down, at the nuisance for one.

Throw colors on passersby, greet strangers with a warm wish,

Observe religious prohibitions, like not eating meat or fish.

Haven't I evolved beyond this? I am no longer a child,

How can I let my hair down, and like others, become wild?

Doorbell rings, I'm surrounded by hooligans,

They drag me down, and make me play with water guns.

I hesitate initially, then let all hell break loose,

Drench the others at will, and paint them as I choose.

In a crowd to lose yourself, is so liberating and free,

That the festivities are fun and harmless, is the real key.

Product vs Service

2026-03-02T16:05:00.000+05:30

Let go of the service mindset, become a cool product,

Your value should compound over time, and scale you must.

To remain a coach is a folly, when you can write a how-to-coach guide,

To sell, you must be visible, and not beneath your client work hide.

For a coach has limited time slots, while with a guide, you can motivate,

And fill your coffers with money, and have a larger impact, my mate.

That the how-to guide needs a different skill, is besides the point,

You'd better transform and get the Midas touch, don't dare you us disappoint.

You say you have packaged yourself nicely, the trick is how to distribute,

How to capture the heart of young coaches, who will be floored by your repute

To shape them and their clients, you can author books or create a course,

You can go on speaking engagements, and thereby set forth the discourse.

If money were not a factor, would I make myself a product?

I'll write poems for impact, and for healing relational work conduct.

Work Leisure Integration

2026-02-27T22:56:00.000+05:30

A poem a day, I choose to write,

As night befalls, ideas take flight.

The inner drive, bleeds through next day,

I strive hard at work, and longer stay.

The hour spent juggling, words and rhyme,

As I hone my craft, lose sense of time.

The same absorption, I take to work,

The mastery mindset, becomes a quirk.

The finished product, bridges hearts, hooks you,

Makes me bond with audience, that's sensitive too.

The service orientation, and the community high,

Reaps dividends in workplace, makes me the cool guy.

It's more than a hobby, it's a serious pursuit,

That it makes my days bearable, is a point moot.

Man and Superman

2026-02-26T17:00:00.001+05:30

Bent and broken, into a better shape,

Adversity moulds me, into a man with a cape.

I don't become bitter, use it as a springboard,

To release the strength, that was inside stored.

I still dread and wonder, am I worthy of my pain?

Sacrifices notwithstanding, did morals go down the drain?

To survive and emerge stronger, is not always good,

I suffered, but in vain, for myself did I stood?

Would it have been better, for me to destruction choose?

Than to survive, or even flourish, and myself bit by bit lose?

What use is victory, when I am no longer myself?

In the quest for future, should I not on the past dwell?

When I started my dream, was to be a good human being,

To remain human despite setbacks, is incredibly freeing.

Setting the Mood

2026-02-25T23:29:00.000+05:30

Tune the strings first, then set the bass right,

Fiddle with the gain, till the sound's to your delight.

Practice solo daily, before that electrifying performance,

To set the stage on fire, first go through the hell of endurance.

Sit on a bridge for hours, catch waterlilies in varied light,

Mix the various pigments, till you get the hue that's bright.

Sketches and notes yield, to the masterpiece in oil,

You have to paint a million perspectives, can't shy from toil.

Detach from what the day served, write to a prompt few lines,

Let the dust settle down a bit, to uncover what the heart pines.

Scribble in your diary or online, variations on a theme,

Discard what doesn't nourish you, make it last more than a meme.

If you wish I'll pen another poem, at your whim and my will,

But first I need the day to set mood, so that with 14 lines I can kill.

Being Gritty

2026-02-21T23:26:00.000+05:30

The goal is clear, mocks me from afar,

Guides my actions, like the North Star.

Can I exchange the dream? Have I traded too low?

Should I burst like a nova, or keep burning slow?

The passion is apparent, makes me come alive,

Every step of the journey, I give myself a high five.

Energy invested here, could it other parts drain?

Should I hoard the thunder, or let it pour and rain?

The persistence is astonishing, I've walked a mile long,

To abandon at this juncture, on many levels, is so wrong.

Could I dig a different place, where my efforts will bear fruit?

Is calling out the sunk cost fallacy, to myself, a bit rude?

If you insist, I'll reassess, but I know I'll stay the course,

This work is so important, that for all lives I'll endorse.

Heart Brain Tussle

2026-02-21T12:54:00.001+05:30

Seen through my wounds, the world appears red,

I want it to fade and disappear, as I toss in my bed.

The morning sunrise, doesn't feed and sustain,

My heart has stopped beating, it's all the way brain.

The brain calculates, who to trust and how much,

I'm always on the lookout, for new wounds as such.

Once a victim, now a survivor, the label doesn't help,

At the slightest slight, I get triggered, and go for the scalp.

My past defines me; I can't afford another defeat,

I can't let you cheat me; I'll never get back on my feet.

You may be an angel in disguise, I'll give it a pass,

When I'm bleeding profusely, cauterization seems a farce.

You want to hurt me further, when I'm already hurt and clearly in pain,

My heart is not convinced, though my brain realizes it's for long-term gain.

The Golden Pursuit

2026-02-16T17:27:00.000+05:30

I need to rake in the moolah, life is short,

It'll ensure stability- you gently exhort.

Wealth once accumulated, takes time to diminish,

The race is about survival, from start to finish.

I need to rake in the moolah, life is uncertain,

Without money to flaunt, it's a tad less fun.

I need to up the Joneses, have discretionary spends,

With me on the top, alone, is how I know it ends.

I need to rake in the moolah, life is unlived,

It's an empty canvas, that with money can be filled.

Untethered from work, I can write sonnets at will,

Do charity, create impact, with a note two birds kill.

Money is not the enemy, it is the reasons we covet it for,

Pursue money all you want, don't let it tarnish your golden core.

Different Lives, Different Masters

2026-02-16T14:01:00.001+05:30

To sit on a pile of cash, or bond with someone dear,

Some aspire to be on the top 10 lists, others leaving no legacy fear.

Some are drawn to how they can drive others, others driven by personal growth,

Some want to attract and be beautiful, though they may get burned in the process like a moth.

Fame, power, wealth are the anchors, that keep many a people afloat,

That love and service could be a lifeline, they don't know- they never sailed that boat.

All their life spent to earn enough, so they can pay a higher bill,

It costs them health and peace of mind, and increases their chance of being ill.

You become what you aspire for, you become what you behave,

When goals are not steeped in your soul, even after achieving you crave.

When you are driven by care for others, and want to serve and deepen ties,

You are happy and more satisfied, you can overthrow materialist lies.

On the death bed you never regret, how you could have earned even more,

Only that you could have loved and lived well, and left this world better than before.

Pacing Myself

2026-02-08T17:01:00.000+05:30

Suffering from diabetes, I have been advised brisk walk,

I prefer a leisurely stroll, where with friends I can talk.

Chats and gossips done, the walk feels less of a task,

Amidst laughter and tomfoolery, I can let go of my mask.

Walking collectively, poses a challenge of sorts,

That the group mirrors my rhythm, what are the odds?

Some chug along fast, others force me to slow down.

I can't split the group in two, or all around me frown.

So I'm forced to walk, at a slightly unnatural pace,

With the athletes amongst us, I literally run to not lose face.

While with others who are, more carefree and laid back,

I have to goad them into action, lest they be left behind the pack.

In any human endeavor, there's a dynamic at play,

To walk beside the slowest person, I'd prefer any day.