I have a disorder
To feel mediocre when praised
But to feel proud when being realized
To extollers I am just the lucky one
There always seems so much to achieve
With ambitious ones I happen to be content and happy
After all, there will always something left even for the best
As the confusion about self mounts
Surprisingly clarity of thought forgets its bounds
Joking when sadness does it rounds
How many tears came watching that silly movie, well I lost count!
So I thought of writing something philosophical
Hoping of doing something mystical
Or at least clichéd rhetorical
But even failed to find something rhyming with ‘cal’!
Well, that was dull.
When life goals change sooner
Than Delhi buses changing lanes
You doubt if grass is actually greener
On the other side of the joints smoked in chains.