Death in Life

Life can be a death sentence
When you do not take chances.

Life can be a death sentence
If you constantly abide by everyone's rules.

Life can be a death sentence
If you do not know when to hold on or when to let go.

Life is what you make of it.
Death is what we've made of it.

See you around.

This poem is also published on Literary Kicks.

Inside the Heart of Mumbai

I was in Mumbai not too long ago. In fact, I watched the Oscar winning movie "Slumdog Millionaire" while I as in Bombay. Yes, I was there when the Oscars were announced. And, yes, I called my friends immediately and greeted them with a Jai Ho! I've been doing this every now and then since then.

Inside the Heart of Mumbai was the show aired on this morning's Goodmorning America. I came across it as I turned on the TV to watch the latest weather forecast. Glad I did.

Makes me wish I could just fly back and forth from the US to India as when I want--to partake in the dynamic culture at the blink of an eye.

The thing is--when I am there, I miss being here. When I am here, I would like to be there. Human nature, I suppose.

Best wishes.

Simmering Away

On a low flame, many have boiled away--waiting for the perfect time and taste.

This is how relationships can be--waiting for the next phone call, the next correspondence, the next glance, the next move, or none.

Why wait around when so much needs to be done?

Why wait around when spring is around?

Feel free to simmer, but only that much--as much as the heart can take.

This poem has also been published by Literary Kicks.

Tears and Fears

Tears and fears.....the two seem to go hand in hand in daylight and darkness.

Often we come across people experiencing the two. Not a new thing this is. Many have felt this before.

Why is it that there are those who hold a person for ransom and make one believe that the individual's happiness lies in the palm of their hands? Why is it that some people cannot allow others to be happy? Why is it that they keep the other person confined?

Feels safe, I suppose. They know no other way, I suppose. For the sake of a family, I suppose. Love, I suppose.

But really can anyone feel happy once they realize they are trapped? What is being trapped?

Happiness is what you make of it. It could be having the freedom to go and get some fresh air, entertain new thoughts, experience new feelings, speak with new people, perhaps make lifelong friends. Or stay restrained.

Happiness cannot be without sadness, love cannot be without loss?

Is it so?

Why feel anything at all then? Why not succumb to the idiocy of those who believe to speak with someone is to fall in love, to write "love you," means till "death do us part."

Think about it--in Wuthering Heights, even death could not really separate Heathcliff and Catherine.

But would there be a Heathcliff without a Catherine. Tears without fears? Love without loss? Gain without pain?

"Wake up and smell the coffee," I want to shout out. It ain't going to change. Allowing oneself to be held captive will always make the person the other person's captive. Or a prisoner of one's own thoughts, whichever is worse. Stay happy!