Twirled Moustache

 i’ve lost that unquenchable thirst,

To chase a dream.

i no longer have the strength, once i believed i had,

To reshape this world.

Somewhere along the way,

That anger of a youth died out.

And that twirled moustache shaved off.

Now, As i run the rat race

Bound to a keyboard and a glowing screen,

My shoulders have grown narrow,

Thoughts, even narrower.

My identity reduced to - The house i own,

The balance i keep.

The man in the mirror feels like a stranger,

His gaze unfamiliar, his voice silent.

Yet, the fragrance of those bygone days’ drifts back,

When I flip the worn-out pages

Of my Bharati.

-Krishna-