The Dungeon Of Life Poem by Vaibhav Simha
The Dungeon Of Life
Of all the plights that ensnared me, the Dungeon was the worst,
For so vile it was to rout those who to scale its walls durst.
Enchained was I within its darkness, with myriads along;
"Succumb, despair; turn glum, forbear! " was the fetters' song.
An ostensible thought: the only way out was the open top—
But these fateful odious walls would strive to you stop.
Even if you splinter the manacles of rigid popular views,
By walking down your own path, yenning to be a muse,
The bestial savage crude walls are bewitched with something unexplained
That would ensnarl anyone who climbed it, being callow and untrained.
For these walls of worldly wants and public expectations are life's trammels
Which cudgel you to forge ahead only through temporal, limitless channels.
I sought the ampler boundless canvas that stretched beyond,
So I broke my shackles and climbed the walls, but it finally upon me dawned.
A fool's errand it proved to be: as distant was liberty as before.
Once an expectation was fulfilled by me, the expectant walls heightened more and more.
No sooner had I accomplished a forced goal than another knocked on my door.
Was there no way to traverse these walls and ascend to gloriously soar?
This is the Dungeon of Life, the creational folly of the people galore,
Those who sprouted deific wings and escaped are now of the lore.
In past tense is this exposition, not without a reason though—
Festooned with hoary wings, fulgent in a divine glow,
I winged towards the cosmic welkin, free of tether:
And ever since been loving both the ether and nether!
There are three things to be noted in this poem:
1. The poem is set in an analogous location called the Dungeon of Life, wherein the narrator and myriads more are shackled, and bounded by uncanny walls.
2. The shackles represent the "rigid public views" or, simply put, the way in which people want us to live. For example, a doctor wants his child to be a doctor; students are generally discouraged from investing much time in fine arts.
3. The walls trammel you after you break free from the shackles: these walls represent the ever-heightening expectations of the people around you who constantly act as stressors to force you to achieve "greater heights". One can never be satiated if they succumb to these elements. Whenever you climb the walls (implying achievement of an expectation) , they heighten, preventing you from escaping from their clutches.
All these try to channel and narrow your advancement and life, and make you run forever on this sempiternally extending path with no respite. The narrator has described the dungeon using the past tense, because he was able to garner enough courage and strength to escape the dungeon and live life in his way.
Meanings:
1. muse: an inspiration
2. loving both ether and nether: choose both or fluctuate between two very disparate things; (derived as) do what one likes to do and even change their path if they feel like it, not controlled by others.
This much depth of thought no one of your age can have. So I dismiss your 'claim' that you are a teenager. So please try not to create that illusion. Please excuse me! Your thought process is in line with that of a mature poet!
Ma'am, with due respect, I have to say that I am indeed a teenager born in 2004. But I'm happy that you acknowledge my thought process.
Man is overridden by aspirations. Once we fulfill one aspiration, a bigger one comes before us and we struggle to achieve it. We are ever haunted by such aspirations and we end up with frayed nerves, never satisfied. The world also drives us crazy by dragging us to move along the grooves they cut. As a result man finds himself in tethers all the time.
WithOnce an expectation was fulfilled by me, the expectant walls heightened more and more. No sooner had I accomplished a forced goal than another knocked on my door. Was there no way to traverse these walls and ascend to gloriously soar? This is one of the sad predicaments of everyone born to this world. We are chained down in a dungeon either one of our own make or one created by others.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/5/2024 1:04:47 AM # 1.0.0.1119
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