The window lanes are ready,
They smell fresh, paint, aerosol and other chemicals,
Its festive, happiness all around
But a sheer maintenance period inside
Silent and petrified, terrified often
What I don’t try to understand is how other ones understand me
I remember colorful smell of festive
Auras and beautiful smiles,
A feeling of everything being all right.
Certain things that sorts out automatically
With just a piece of sweet
Lights and crackers, so much noise
And suddenly silence
Next day is the day we try to cope up with
And wait for another festive.