That moment when our minds wander,
Distant from reality,
The whole world stands still
While we’re in abysmal fantasy.
The good old days we’ve left behind,
When all that mattered was our play time,
When sleep was underrated
And happiness didn’t cost a dime.
The time we thought the world is ours
And all dreams seemed pragmatic,
And now, all that’s left of it
Are the dusty trophies in the attic.
Remembering the things we should’ve said
And those, that we shouldn’t,
Wishing for just one chance
To change things we earlier couldn’t.
The endless talks with the best of friends
Have now become too small.
All that remains of the bond
Are faded memories on the wall.
Soon, we hear a voice,
“Hey, what are you thinking?”
And all we reply, with an empty smile,
Is “Nah, nothing.”
Himanshu Chiripal | PGDM 2016-18