Here I am enroute to certainty,
Playing with the time and my dignity,
Too good to be true, but more or less the fact,
Chain reaction inside; trying to be intact.

Common man’s alike, as are his woes,
Just like the budget his expectation grows,
Expectations are multi-dimensional; they shouldn’t be own,
Can’t be met; always on a sojourn.

Once mortal and poverty I have seen,
People here have no idea of what does “food” mean,
Illiteracy is common; education rare,
It’s a house of screams; “silence” no body can hear.

Here I am enroute to be diseased,
People here are dead dummies, eternal soul’s released,
relations commercialized as market value has increased,
The fact is “illusion”, ideologies have been freezed.

If you still want a shade, still want your stake,
cool off your heels and give yourself a brake,
Coz it will never happen, your thoughts are under shackles,
Doctored scenario is keeping an eye, expect no miracles,
Bow down, be on the knees, don’t you dare stand,
The fact is well equipped and all you have is…………………..”Handful Of Sand”.

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