Some men try to fit into concepts and Some are concepts, who try to fit in as men.

And as it crosses my mind
capitalism is a science fit only to be practiced by the most perfect
and socialism an art to save against the imperfect.

Ok Computer!

There are no differences between the day & nights
The early morning is only as refreshing as the dead of the night
I don’t even see the thin line between the two

I sleep beside the mobile handset
Kept under my pillow like an ancient totem
And in constant gaze of my laptop

Day or Night isn’t rolling by the hands of clock
But by the assignments in the way
Only the completion of one lets me into the next hour

I don’t switch off my lights
And don’t look at the sun in the morning sky
neither the stars in night, Only my lit screen

Twitter is so digital, was it the birds who invented it?
Life might not have a background score
But there is always an MP3

There is a rush of information to my head
And I carry several times my ancestors had
My last decade is irrelevant
as I gasp for the memoirs of yesteryears

There is so much cold outside
But I live in another microcosm
The doors closed, windows shut
Does my neighbor next door feels the same

Only as the words come to rescue
The thoughts abandon and confuse
I survive by the gibber that’s not lost between the two