I stand in the crowd, find myself alone,
Can hear someone calling; I hear a melancholic tone
Someone’s crying for help, of that I am sure,
The voice sounds familiar, so innocent and pure.
I can hear the screams now;
they are coming from within.
These faces carry a smile;
the souls, they burn,
Day after day disappears;
there is nothing that we learn
I search for inner peace, I search for tranquility,
Where did all the love go? All the sensibility?
Wicked are the plans, the motives are ulterior
Are we animals or humans? Are we even superior?
My respect always goes up for people who show they can laugh at themselves. The sardar who tells sardar jokes, the fat guy who jokes about his paunch, these are my kind of people. They are comfortable in their own skins, and they get that we are an imperfect species doomed to self-destruct - somethings are just not worth getting het up about. The biggest human failing is that we take ourselves too damn seriously
In an ideal world, I would wana go out with you.. Then again, in an ideal world, you wont be such a bitch.
We live in a generation where people are not classified by color, caste or religion; but on the content of their i-pods. The facebook profiles, the blackberry pins, the Friday night hangout spots. These seem to be the defining characteristics of an individual. What keeps us occupied: the latest sitcoms, the who’s doing who, the sms’s.
Why can’t we just come out of our self imposed cobwebs and let these things take care of themselves? Why can’t we maintain our individuality? Why does it matter whom we hang out with?
Children are coaxed into drugs; girls spend way too much time in preening themselves. On that note, men aren’t too far behind either.
Is it that difficult to find someone who admires a warm coffee on a nice evening? A conversation which engrosses you so bad you lose track of time? Feelings so intense that you notice the color of the sky? Smile so serene you feel like you are in a trance? Friends who make you laugh so bad you feel gasping for breath? The 3-am friends?
I feel it’s the innocence that is lost. Why do we miss our childhood so much? It’s because we needed no one to feel chirpy. A stranger was like an old friend. Everyone was warm and interested in you. No pretences, no hostility. A child doesn’t care whether you are dressed up bad or you are a geek. As I move thru the city streets, amidst the horns and all that jazz, a kid peeking from the back of a car, smiling at me for no apparent reason, makes me think of the past, the simpler times.
People tend to complicate things. They form unnecessary opinions; irrelevant issues give them sleepless nights. Seriously, whom are we trying to please? Everyone has grudges with someone or the other. Why can’t we break these shackles? When people would realize no amount of fairness creams would make them attractive? When boys comprehend that baggy jeans and loose clothing would not aid them in bedding the chick from the coffee place. When women appreciate that the guy who makes fun of her every time she comes to him with a broken heart and that-bastard-dumped-me stories is THE guy for her. And our parents comprehend the fact that if we wanted to clean our room, we would have done that days ago?
kya ye haqeeqat hai, ya hai ye ek ittefaaq
kya ye haqeeqat hai, ya hai ye ek ittefaaq
ki mai maru fart, aur tum sikodo naaq...
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ab to aisa hoga he nahi.. ki mai karu usse approach..
ab to aisa hoga he nahi.. ki mai karu usse approach..
mai banata hu joint, ja tu banale roach...
