I stumble though life, mostly -nay- always clueless 

Many metaphors come to mind , but none as apt as the Maze , 

A Maze with no design and no purpose , A maze that just is 

One day I was dropped in the middle of it ,and I have been stumbling through ever since 

I have met many people in the maze , some  full of purpose , many listless

Some claim to have solved the maze , some say it is futile even to try 

Some say it loops upon itself this maze , some say there is a definite end 

Some say the maze is evil , some say the maze is the punishment for being evil 

There was a time when I wanted to solve the maze , I was sure there was a solution

I was full of vim and vigor , so I would always run

I was so sure of myself , so I would take paths at will 

Then I started running into dead ends , so I slowed down 

I would walk sometimes and I would think carefully at every branch of the path 

I still was running into dead ends 

I sought help , I talked to people along the way , I asked for directions 

Some of them shrugged and walked away 

Some were friendly and pointed in various directions 

I found maps and I prayed on my knees for guidance 

There were moments of rare if false clarity ,

When I thought the entire maze was bathed in clear , heavenly light 

And I could see beyond the maze 

But I would still run into dead ends 

I am tired now and weary to the bone  

I neither run nor walk nor amble , I only stumble 

I was always clueless and now I am listless too 

I am not sure if I care anymore 

I take paths at will , because I think it doesn’t matter anymore 

I stop at will , and keep gawking at shiny objects along the way 

I still talk to other people , but never ask for directions now 

I still find maps along the way and I promptly tear them up 

I don’t remember the last time I prayed for guidance 

And I laugh at moments of clarity 

I stumble through the maze , hating it and yearning for a release 

I have always been a performer , since I was young , ever since I remember 

Sometimes I am a clown , other times I am a dancer  

At times I am the brave leader , most of the times I am a meek follower 

I always remember my lines and deliver them to near perfection 

I always know what emotion to enact ,whether I really felt it or not is always immaterial 

I wear many masks and slip in and out of costumes 

Ever since I remember I have been on this stage 

The audience watches or I think they do , I only see vague outlines beyond the stage 

I think there are many , I hear murmurs , I hear conversations 

Once in a long while , I hear scattered applause 

It is the applause that spurs me on , I assume they are applauding for me 

I can only assume , for I see only vague outlines , but I know there are many of them 

Once -they applauded when I laughed dramatically , so I tried it again -it fell flat 

So I stopped laughing and sobbed and wept , this time there was applause 

But when I tried it again – it didn’t work 

Over a period of time , I have learnt that this unseen audience is fickle 

I have never understood what they like , so I have taken to try a great many different things 

Once I self immolated on stage , smelling my own burning flesh 

One other time , I peeled my skin off . I even gouged out my own eyes once 

Once I broke my leg and danced a jig 

And another time I tried telling jokes while repeatedly stabbing myself 

I don’t know what works anymore 

The applause gets more muted as the years pass on 

But I keep at it , I keep up the performance 

I am all burnt and scabbed skin now 

My voice is hoarse , I have lost a lung and I walk with a limp 

My mother keeps telling me to get off the stage , she begs , she screams , she pleads 

But she doesn’t understand 

The applause may spur me on , but I am not doing this for the unseen audience 

I am doing this for myself 

Or so I tell her. 

I was punished by the Gods and the punishment was for Eternity 

I was to sit in a small room with a broken window and gaze out upon the world 

And just watch , watch all that passes on as life and watch all the lives that pass on 

Such was my lot , so every day I watch from my broken window and see a great many things 

And most of what I see , makes me sad 

I see hearses bearing Tiny Coffins ,wind their slow painful way down the road 

I see graveyards upon graveyards filled with the corpses of Unfulfilled Potential 

I see heart wrenching pangs of Unrequited Love 

I see Untold Stories braying in pain and running down the road begging to be completed

I see friends drifting apart for no reason and I see lovers who haven’t talked in a long while 

I see Impotent Anger and I am both disgusted and saddened 

I see relationships grow cool and indifferent and a little sob escapes from me 

I see people engaged in pointless waits for even they know not what 

I see mankind’s immense capacity for casual cruelty and unspeakable evil 

I wonder at the Silence of Good People and am terrified for the world 

I see Unresolved Conflict , I see Blind Faith , I see Broken Conversations and Lives Not Lived 

And I see this day after day , every day 

I have been seeing this for eternity and I am cursed to see this for an eternity more 

But once in a long while , the horizon clears 

And the Sun seems to shine , it seems to shine upon Vistas of Immeasurable beauty 

I seem to see Love , I seem to spy happiness , I seem to see lives fully lived , and stories all told 

They are very brief - these moments they don’t last long 

I am not even sure if they are real , may be I am just seeing what I want to see , what I long to see 

I am sure it is a trick  being played by the Gods 

They are giving me Hope , the Gods 

And Hope is the Gods’ cruelest punishment 

      There couldn’t have been humbler beginnings ..or messier ones 

      In a Primordial soup , it started it’s life , in a chaotic mess it all began 

      In unformed thoughts , in guttural groans and in inarticulate sounds 

      In gestures and in paintings on caves , in necessity and may be in desperation too 

      Into this mess , it was born …no one knows from whence it came or how

      It’s birth was not destined nor was it anticipated in any way ..

      One day it wasn’t and the next day it just was ..the first Word came into existence

      And then everything changed … the world would no longer be the same 

      The first Word was feeling lonely 

      So it dipped into the primordial soup and started creating more of it’s own kind

      And before time , there were many of them 

      And then they started creating other things and remaking the world 

      They were Gods really…so they started by creating Gods ..

      They invented War and then Diplomacy...they birthed Hatred 

      Then came Lust ….and closely on it’s heels , Love took form

      And the more they created ..the more powerful they became

     Thoughts were no longer unformed ..sounds were no longer inarticulate 

     Thoughts and sounds may have birthed Words ..

     But once formed , Words rebirthed Thoughts and sounds ..

     It is the weirdest cycle of life.. 

     They rule us now , these Words ..

     They are omnipotent …they can be empty and mean nothing 

     They can also mean the world …they hurt ..they soothe 

     They create ..they destroy ..they inspire. They deflate… 
     
     They are omniscient …they know everything ..

     And without them nothing can be known .. 

     They inform …they obfuscate…they confuse ..and they edify .. 

     They are shapeshifters ….they can be dense like a winter fog… 

     And clear as a spring morning…

    They are the medium and the message… 

    The beginning ..the end and the middle too..

    The world birthed them and they birthed whole new worlds.. 

    It is true what they say ..

    In the Beginning. There was the Word.. 

    But the Word was not with God..

    The Word was God.

     I am a refugee , a long time ago I had sought escape 

     An escape from a reality ,which was to me both puzzling and unbearable 

     An escape from a life that didn’t make sense at all 

     So I ran away and sought refuge 

     Sought refuge deep inside my head. 

     And there I made myself a new Home

     It was a beautiful place -my new Home 

     Out there was the bleakness of reality and my new Home was all warmth and sunshine

     Out there was soul crushing loneliness and inside was liberating solitude 

     Out there were life sucking conundrums and inside was life giving clarity 

     Out there was confusion and chaos and inside life and creation 

     I loved my new Home. So I kept adding to it. 

     I made mansions. And erected towers. I dug up lakes and rivers and whole seas. 

     I made long hallways. And constructed elaborate mazes. 

     There were libraries . Conservatories and even an Opera House. 

     But from time to time , I had to step out of my new Home. And visit reality 

     And I couldn’t wait to go back home. The first few times I was very happy to be back 

     Then something started changing. Home felt less and less like home. 

     I started seeing signs of reality in my new Home. 

     A dark cloud here. A cold draft there. 

     I was bringing a piece of reality with me every time I stepped out. 

     No matter how rarely I visited reality , some of it would always seep into my new Home. 

     I started seeing shadows of other people. I was no longer alone. 

     I was locked out of my own towers and getting lost in my own hallways 

   Whole sections were missing from my libraries. Phantoms now haunted the mazes 

  Where there was sunshine , there is now fog and mist 

  Where there was liberating solitude , there is now haunting company 

  Where there was clarity there are now shadows 

  My new Home now is a Frankenstein’s monster. 

 The inside of my head has turned against me. I cant wait to leave. 

 But where do I go? I sought refuge here from an unbearable reality. 

 And now like all refugees , I am just another schizophrenic 

 I am on the border of my new Home and reality ,willing to live in neither. 

 I have a foot each in each one of them and a firm footing in neither. 

 So I teeter on the edge ,as I slowly turn insane. 

 Death paid me a visit the other day 

 It was not my time yet , she just liked to visit from time to time , like an old friend 

 She is beautiful – Death – and very serene , 

 The serenity of one who has seen so much and knows it all means so little 

 I liked her. And I liked talking to her.  She always said the same things.

“Why do you always choose her over me” , And , “She is not very nice to you , is she?” 

“She gives you nothing but pain. Yet you cling to her so desperately , why?” 

“I am rest. I am respite. I am peace”

“I am the sweet bliss of forgetfulness. I am dreamless sleep. I am the relief of endings” 

“I am the calm of extinction. I am the end. I am also eternity” 

 “I reduce the chaos of everything into the sweet balm of nothing” 

“I am the most powerful being that ever was. And ever will be” 

“Yet you choose her, every time , she – but a poor servant of mine”

 “She – the ugliest being that ever was and the most fragile”

“She is a cruel mistress and she is capricious. She is twisted. She is hateful” 

“She is the Trojan Horse of the Greeks. She is the Pandora’s box of Zeus. ” 

“She is to be feared, even when she comes bearing gifts” 

“She is vile. She is sadistic. She gives you hope only to take it away” 

“She commits unspeakable tortures. She alienates your friends. She sleeps with your enemy” 

“You love her more than anything. Yet She defiles your love.”

“How can you not hate her? How can you not want me?” 

Death was right. Life, was indeed a cruel mistress. I don’t know why I loved her so. 

 I nodded my head in thoughtful understanding 

“I don’t know” , I mumbled 

“You do know Life doesn’t love you? “, she said . I nodded. 

“You do know she is only preparing you for me” , she said, “Life is my servant after all”. I nodded. 

“Will you choose me then , at least this time” , she asked gently ,her hand outstretched 

 I shook my head. Death smiled. 

“I will never understand” , Death said 

 I sighed. 

“Neither will I”