Passing through the streets
Looking at people and things
But seeing nothing
Like a numb zombie
Days and nights pass
And you can never see
Whether you are living
Or is it worth dying
You wait for something
You crave just anything
That would make you
Feel again
And it takes death
To realise that you live
Standing as a witness
Unmoving, immobile
As the specter hangs
In the night air
You see how little
Do things really matter
Those trivial fights
Those trivial tears
Fade with the blow
Of the fatal hand
How small and delicate
How inconsequential
In the cycle of times
One life and its troubles are
3 comments:
Hi Kajal,
Celebrate life, Kajal.
Still too much cynicism and sorrow in your moanings.
One of the testimonies of the survivors from Pune, interviewed in the TOI, spoke about the daring of ordinary people like waiters, kitchen staff, etc, who rescued guests in the hotels.
The question the survivor asked in the interview was: these heroic people are also part of the system. Why do we not celebrate and honour them?
Warm regards,
- Joe.
hmm thats true actually and sir let me tell you that we tried to get them on air...but their companies had specifically asked them not to speak to the TV cameras...3 of my colleagues tried for Taj and Oberoi but the staff refused to grant us an interview saying that they had been asked not to say a word
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