Wandering aimlessly, waiting for a spark
from city to city, working from the start.
holding on to pictures of the past,
A calendar of future,
with appointment filled tasks.
Is there a confusion in all our mind?
Why are we not happy after our paycheck filled lives?
We live by the hour.
We cry for time.
We cringe for our loved ones left behind.
Are we really so trapped in our capitalists minds?
Toiling our way through day and night,
in those sky-touching buildings,
and a suit and a tie
Are we blinded to the fact that money is not the ultimate goal of life?
When we are down the hill,
the story is where it begins.
Vulnerable and fragile,
Our organs will mix with the higher might.
What will you do then?
With all your lost hours, and gained checks?
How will you retrieve your steps back
Craving for the time to begin again.
more by PRANJULAA SINGH
photograph by Verne Ho