Nikunj Sharma - ! ! ! ! ! SWIPE! ! ! ! ! !

I remember when promises
were hard to come by, rare
as water in the sahara. One
wait would last a lifetime.

Held within the confines
of meagre paycheck, promises
took time to germinate; sprouts
won't show, for lack of moisture.

One dream lasted many nights.
Money wasn't plastic yet. The
thoughts travelled at same
velocity on wings of desires.

Hard was the word, commonly
heard. A young mind would hold
condolences, of broken dreams
each day, but eyes won't show.

The street corner had only
a pawn shop, not a glistening
ATM, that needs only four
digits to spout Aladin's lamp.

Little eyes can't hide the
tears behind the curls anymore.
With each swipe I neutralise
my forgotten dreams, one by one.

26/11 /09.

Nikunj Sharma

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