When I was a kid,
I used to tip toe go to kitchen,
During the noon time,
When my mother was asleep,
So that I can have some cream biscuits,
Without her knowledge.
But in the evening,
She calls me and takes my class,
For eating those biscuits on a regular basis.
She didn’t changed the place of those biscuits,
Because she loved my tip-toeing and having those biscuits,
And thinking that I can fool my mother,
Who know me more than I know myself.
Now, the table has turned.
I loved her beauty, her smile, her truthfulness,
And this time, my mother tip-toed,
And went to meet her and said,
To leave me and go far away from me,
Because my father don’t like her,
And my girl left me, without telling me,
And I thought that it was fate and we weren’t meant to be a together,
But then when I came to know what had really happened,
I cursed my mother, my girl, everyone, even God,
Because then I hated this game of tip-toe,
This game of pretendness.
This game of keeping cards close to your chest,
This game of not putting everything on the table,
This game of thinking that others are fool,
And you are the only smart guy.
I hate this sham!!