Living in prison of other kind within the four walls of transparent thick glass where humans are caged for nine hours.
Here everything is scrutinized- temperature, talk, rules, policies and not to forget sexiest jokes greet us in the morning to bring a laughter. How sad it is that we have nothing to laugh at life apart from some dirty bedroom jokes by some frustrated soul.They called it liberalism, see how free women and men are, they can talk about their bedroom dirty secrets as an entertaining script.
It's more than a death sentence given to a criminal and you get this punishment after getting highest degree from highest rated university of this country. What a loser we have become at this capitalist world! You are trapped so as I'm. For how long one can be alive with such death sentence, how can one laugh with their heart when they are just living death.
I missed the life in my village. Running in the field, catching fish in the rainy season, living without a dream but a life filled with laughter and love. The faces of those in village just become a memory, seems like everything is erased and screened from my head, I missed listening to the midnight songs of drunkard uncles in the neighboring road. They are more than a poet to me, their songs are so meaningful though no music to it. Some cry about their wife, some for lost lover and some are rebellious, against the meira paibi who spends the night in the village hut in a roadside chewing tobacco but shouting slogans against the drunkard.
The misery of this luxurious life in Delhi took away every memories of a childhood, it has stolen my innocence, crush this heart which only knows the colour of blue sky and green field. The evening falls with the noise of crows, devils and loud honking of desperate Delhite. Sadly,even the midnight moon no longer bring back the memories of lost lovers.
Living in this prison of other kind is like a guinea pig in the laboratory of a mad scientists, testing his medicine on us to make human like a robot..emotionless, voiceless and death!!!
Living in prison of other kind within the four walls of transparent thick glass where humans are caged for nine hours.
Here everything is scrutinized- temperature, talk, rules, policies and not to forget sexiest jokes greet us in the morning to bring a laughter. How sad it is that we have nothing to laugh at life apart from some dirty bedroom jokes by some frustrated soul.They called it liberalism, see how free women and men are, they can talk about their bedroom dirty secrets as an entertaining script.
It's more than a death sentence given to a criminal and you get this punishment after getting highest degree from highest rated university of this country. What a loser we have become at this capitalist world! You are trapped so as I'm. For how long one can be alive with such death sentence, how can one laugh with their heart when they are just living death.
I missed the life in my village. Running in the field, catching fish in the rainy season, living without a dream but a life filled with laughter and love. The faces of those in village just become a memory, seems like everything is erased and screened from my head, I missed listening to the midnight songs of drunkard uncles in the neighboring road. They are more than a poet to me, their songs are so meaningful though no music to it. Some cry about their wife, some for lost lover and some are rebellious, against the meira paibi who spends the night in the village hut in a roadside chewing tobacco but shouting slogans against the drunkard.
I missed the life in my village. Running in the field, catching fish in the rainy season, living without a dream but a life filled with laughter and love. The faces of those in village just become a memory, seems like everything is erased and screened from my head, I missed listening to the midnight songs of drunkard uncles in the neighboring road. They are more than a poet to me, their songs are so meaningful though no music to it. Some cry about their wife, some for lost lover and some are rebellious, against the meira paibi who spends the night in the village hut in a roadside chewing tobacco but shouting slogans against the drunkard.
The misery of this luxurious life in Delhi took away every memories of a childhood, it has stolen my innocence, crush this heart which only knows the colour of blue sky and green field. The evening falls with the noise of crows, devils and loud honking of desperate Delhite. Sadly,even the midnight moon no longer bring back the memories of lost lovers.
Living in this prison of other kind is like a guinea pig in the laboratory of a mad scientists, testing his medicine on us to make human like a robot..emotionless, voiceless and death!!!
