By Amrita Kumar
When you are born to the best,
You want to be the best.
So, I solemnly swear,
To uphold my parent’s honor,
By treating all just and fair.
Even when life plays foul,
I will persevere till hope is found.
But my parent is sick,
Life threatens to draw the curtains
That I so desperately try to cling on to.
If there was more oxygen, I would happily provide,
To increase the capacity of lungs and life.
At times like these,
I turn to my inner shrine,
Praying to the divine, releasing my inner child.
My Lord says, “It is okay, it is okay,
Dear child, don’t cry—
The Bible says there is such a thing as eternal life.”
My anguish has no bounds,
I fight with the Lord:
“But if eternal life means heavenly abode,
How must I feel my parent’s presence, oh Lord?”
“Heaven and hell reside in your heart.
Life is a choice—every day you choose
Whether you wish to meet your creators,
Or the gloom in your room.”
“They live through your acts of kindness and generosity.
You get to choose..
Their longevity or history.