I tear my skin apart
Trying to fit in
Maybe what's inside really is all that matters
So I tear apart my outside
Trying to show the world my inside

The common Indians, famous for visions,
But actually infamous for their laziness.
Me included.
We need to rise above such lucid dreaming,
Then we will observe our world improving.
Yes, surely.
And we won't feel the need to study elsewhere.

The Indians who move out are necessarily required,
To do petty cleaning or similar petty jobs,
Your ego is too big for that.
As much I have known you, you can't handle it,
And I believe that I have known you the best,
Your traits are all known to me.
And that is why I keep on advising you, often needlessly.

I know why you are upset and hopeless regarding me,
Because I have always tried to be your parent,
I tried to be your gaurdian angel.
But you have killed the love inside you by yourself,
I don't fear my own eternal loneliness as much,
As much I fear your eventual failure.
And your probable self-destructive nature at that time.

The thousand, thousand faces
Of pours, of hair, of skin
With glancing gazes - gracious
And a wealth of words - within

Some smile through their veer
Some simply snub but mostly nice
Some in slumber, some in fear
Some too busy with a vice

I am exactly as we all are
The mumbling, melting snowflakes
As I sink and swim among the stars
To avoid all massive mistakes

Onward stranger, to better things
May our minor encounter snap no strings