Bustling..

I shoot this long back during my visit to New Delhi for attending a Congress.

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The buzzing horns and the flashing lights on the bustling streets,

The madding crowd on the daily moves,

The pesky days moves on carrying a moronic ‘me’ and ‘you’.

 

I wonder how it’s paddling of the life-cycle,

With the spokes of sorrows and worries transforming to spikes,

Still it our turn to move on, move on and move on.

 

Time always flees faster and faster,

We’re following and nodding puppet alike,

Need to reach, the zenith, the destiny, isn't it beckoning!

 

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Done