It’s a story of me,
A hard, lousy being.
Dark humor, you can’t predict.
I’m 24 and so vain,
Not taken, unrestrained.
I live my life in a backpack and a case
diving into valleys without a base.
I grew up saying yes mommy, yes daddy,
little did they know I was the devil’s caddy.
I slapped a guy in kindergarten,
oh! Right from 3 I was a Spartan.
Thus, was put in an all-girls school,
trust me it wasn’t all that cool.
All around, pony and skirts both high,
to all the boyish stuff, I said aye-aye.
I was born a girl, but I grew up a boy,
Mohallewali aunties saying haye-haye.
I had dreams, I soared to touch the sky,
undying courage that never went dry.
Meantime, I also liked a guy,
soon, he said didi bye-bye.
So long is life, so melancholic,
without an old-monk,
can you tell I’m an alcoholic?
So much to do, such less time,
should I chase my dreams,
Or run after a dime?
Here I am still figuring right from wrong,
temporary, or is this lifelong?