“I once met a kid who asked me if falling in love was a stupid thing?
To which I answered “It depends upon you…”
I wish I could have said – It’s the only fall that will make you glad.
But back then, probably I was busy thinking of the flight,
And failed to recall what it made me feel inside.
When I was 12, I painted a wall full of paintings
But got bored of them eventually and removed them all.
I moved on. I moved on thinking hobbies make good dates,
But a lover is supposed to be like an art,
That presses you to juice out your soul into it.
Nurture, foster, ripe and repeat.
When I was 15, I was forced to do away with sports,
Something I was passionately in love with,
But I grew over it too, And that’s when I figured,
Some passions are love stories, you better let go.
Because if they can leave, that one sure didn’t have a happy ending.
When I was 19, I came up with this theory,
You become what your parents once wanted to be.
So, if you become an artist with your parents’ engineers
You are their soul coming out of the brick and mortar,
Here to show the world; it can create things much prettier than one can dream.
So, if you are the one looped in wanderlust,
Climbing mountains while drenching a must,
Taking risks and taking turns, I’ll give you a piece of my advice,
Just tell them you are living their delight,
And if you fantasize a love story in your heart,
That’s even stranger than the world falling apart
Living for a day to get swept off your feet
Fight battles for your sweetheart to meet I
’ll give you a piece of my advice,
Just tell them you are living their delight! ”