Sunday, September 20


Winds blow cold and slow
Humming with mellifluous Cradlesong.
Gathered is a swarm of different faces
With all kinds of glittering robes.
Instant the realization that
Mightier is the urge than ever before
To live the Indian dream on offer
Of cosy jobs and manufactured relations
And remain happily oblivious forever.
You work, you party, you pretend
And wonder still
What ails!
The facade grows, the real you shrinks
Nothing is done though to change it.
Last when the day arrives,
You wish to have lived a bit more,
Like you aspired,
When wonderful was the world of yours.

#Composed at Ranchi Railway station#

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