It wasn’t for me that destiny got untied,
The answers that it gave me once, were so untrue and out casted,
They were away from the reality and looked like some bunch of flowers which I wanted to hold.
They still are the same, the bunch which is placed far away and I waiting to hold.
If it was for me, it would have been that,
But it is not!
It is you, who made the figure out of some pebbled mud and broken mould,
This life belongs to all of you,
What I am is how you have seen me!
Because, my natural self is still that vague, irrational and erratic boy,
Who used to chase those seven colored flies!
The flies which were attracted towards the same bunch of flowers!