We must be willing to let go of the life we planned so as to have the life that is waiting for us.

From Bindu to Ojas. From small dot to life.

Say I never knew this feeling, ever. Now I hope it stays and lasts, forever. I am riding high. I don't want to come down.

Now I know I got to play my hand. What the winner don't know, a gambler understands.

This is it, boys, this is war, what are we waiting for? Why don't we break the rules already?

No one told us which way to come, nobody mapped oblivion—so I go growing roses in disarray. Just like most, falling head in . . .