The Joke on Perfection

 




The Joke on Perfection

If you seek perfect,
start by asking Alexander —
he’ll tell you how the world shrinks
once you’ve conquered it.
Maps can be flawless,
but men cannot.
He found no perfection
in the desert’s last grain of sand.

Ask Arjuna,
whose arrows never missed,
but whose questions never stopped.
Ask Drona,
who could teach every strike
except the one that would make him whole.
In the epic of certainties,
every hero bends somewhere.

Even the Buddha tried balance,
and still called it the middle path,
not the perfect one.

The pyramids look precise,
but their builders were buried
under uneven stones.
Da Vinci drew the golden man,
and left half his inventions unfinished.
Michelangelo chipped marble
and called the cracks “the breath of life.”

Perfection, my friend,
is a moving mirage —
it always takes one step back
when you take one forward.
It’s the joke time tells
to those who take themselves too seriously.

There is no perfect lover,
only someone who stays a little longer.
No perfect word,
only the one that feels enough.
No perfect day —
just mornings that dare to begin again.

Walk with the wind, not against it.
Let your voice tremble if it must.
The constellations aren’t in lines either —
they just look perfect from afar.

So when someone says,
I just want it to be perfect,
I smile.
Because the world, in all its crookedness,
is already enough.
And the chase, perhaps,
is the funniest tragedy of all.

Comments

  1. AnonymousNovember 10, 2025 at 6:51 AM

    Very well brought out. Yes, it is like chasing a mirage. There but not there!

    ReplyDelete

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