Give me Freedom :2 years in IITD

I wanted to breathe, it gave me floating shattered dreams to swallow.

I closed my eyes and looked for dreams, my thoughts ended up in chaos instead.

I reached up to the blues of skies, it pulled me down into the dungeons of this horrid earth.

I ought to work for the nation, the community; it proved me foolish in front of the world.

I wished to love my parents more, it snatched my friends even.

I dreamt of saying “I Love You” to her, she broke that dream day after day, month after month.

I hoped for a stable and satisfying life, I was left behind in this rat race.

I searched for answers when, it raised counter questions to me.

I desired for a pleasant aroma, I was left alone in a vacuum.

When I was busy observing others, it raised questions about my own existence.

When I was working 20 hours a day, somewhere, it was conspiring.

When I decided to open up the books, it reminded me of my duties, my obligations to my work and friends.

When I wanted to sing, it called me to shut up my bloody mouth.

When I began to speak, it said shut up again.

When I started to dance, it broke my ass.

I had asked for IITD, it gave me IITD fine. But where’s my dream world,

Give Me Freedom !!!

The Pacific which turned out to be Atlantic.

The lost pay cheque of last two years.

The broken limbs owing to tiresome weight of this world full of expectations.

I run, fiercely, with all my might, hit hard on its chest and fall back.

Now there are two ways to select a life-

1. Sit and cry.
2. Bheja Fry.

I choose the option which makes life interesting.

I breathe fire.

I fight with those blood stained nightmares and don’t wake up before defeating them.

I keep looking into the sun until I reach there.

I shout and laugh in front of this world. They watch me, I know. Do they care? So why should I?

I believe in the biggest asset bestowed upon me after my parents, my friends.

I don’t believe in saying “I Love You”, I will exhaust of saying it to every hot chick that comes my way.

I answer the question papers made my myself.

I smell junkyards and roses at the same time.

I sing and dance when I act.

I spend 1 hour in solitude daily, 10% times with books, 90% with my own self.

I speak at my own will.

Hit me hard.

Burn me harder.

Stab me hardest.

2 years gone, 2 more to go …………. BRING THEM ON !!!

Snehil Basoya