Yesterday, accidentally, I got my old telephone diary.
Moving on alphabetically met many forgotten names.
Surprisingly could recognize all fairly
Then, they all had their set of ambitions and aims
With every sheet, every alphabet & every name
An entirely different story is attached
We all were kind of playing a risky game
Even our lives were sharply edged
Razor sharp was the path
And fortune was really scarce
We would be winners, we had taken an oath
But now we realize that all those were farce
None of us could reach our destiny
Got stuck somewhere in the middle
But if you look back now everything seems funny
It was no passion but only a bubble
A bubble which could not pass the test of time
A spirit which could not turn into passion
Well if you calculate, things seem to be fine
But now, to proceed, we need some real action.
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