Don’t look out of the window, child
The world has gone wild.
For that isn’t the sound of rain.
Those are fingers sprinting on the fast lane.
It is not in a stadium.
The lane is on the cell phone screen.
No victor on the podium,
It’s just a bunch of texting teens.
I must warn you before I proceed.
That child, the world has already gone wild.
Cell phones grab the eyeballs of these teens
And smear that super-glue of hers, and brings these sticky things
Into her arms, never letting go.
And then, she seals their lips
And plant their hips
Onto the couch,
Making them slouch,
Wasting their lives staring at that little machine
And then, that sinister portal sucks out these vibrant souls
Replace it with ghouls,
And these teens will just keep on tapping
Child, don’t be amazed, for this is the world today.
Hear me out, mark the words I say.
Be wary when you get yourself that evil cell.
Or, do me a favour, crush it, and send it to hell.
ġham tumhārā thā zindagī goyā tum ko khoyā use nahīñ khoyā fart-e-girya se jī na halkā ho bas yahī soch kar nahīñ royā ashk to ashk haiñ sharāb se bhī maiñ ne ye dāġh-e-dil nahīñ dhoyā maiñ vo kisht-e-nashāt kyoñ kāTūñ jis ko maiñ ne kabhī nahīñ boyā aabla aabla thī jaañ phir bhī bār-e-hastī