Copyright © 2011 Jaideep Ranade

I lived life thinking how life should be lived

And thus was never alive. Such folly did I score.

An old man I lie in bed, weary of what lies ahead,

What life gave I did not take; soon I’ll be no more.

On my deathbed I lie, and wonder why

I did not live my life. Why did I so err?

Now regret fills this old man’s mind

And a troubled heart with terror.

Death comes, rushing headlong towards the end

And I cling on to one thought. Why didn’t I live?

It comes to take me but I do not wish to cease,

Why must life stop when I have so much to give?

In and out of death’s embrace I reach

Now fear now hope in my heart springs.

I wish to go on, to live my life

I wish to see and do so many things.

Yet, the end that was near is now finally here,

And I can dally no longer. Why must I wither and die?

I wish to live life I had imagined myself living,

Yet at this final moment I can but cry.

I remember my life, the way it was lived

I recall it all in a blink of an eye

There were moments both happy and sad,

Angry and calm, and low and high.

I had lived quite well, the life I had lived,

Though I had lived in a future that could’ve been,

And now as I died, I relived the past,

What was, had happened, had been lived unseen.

I lived in the future while my life did last,

The present was a gift I had squandered away,

And when it was at an end, I lived in the past,

And lived and died regretting the entire stay.

—

This is really a poem about dreams. Do you have dreams? Not dreams of sleep, but dreams of being, of accomplishment, of success? If you do, cherish them; if you don’t, find them. If you can’t find them, talk to me. I’ll find your dreams. Work towards your dreams by living in the present. Don’t spend your life wondering what could have been. Be it. Live it. You have only this one life, you’ll get no more. Work towards your dreams. Don’t fantasize having fulfilled them. Use that time instead to fulfill them. That way, you’ll live it, not dream your dream. The old man in the poem, as he is dying, regrets not having worked towards his goals. He regrets having wasted his life by living in the world of dreams. He regrets not having the guts to fight for his dreams in the real world, because in the dream world, they were already realized. If you don’t live life, you’ll regret it as you end. And that will be sad.

-jdranade