Chasing a bug, with sleepy eyes
does not figure out, after many tries
Some where in this alley I think a cat is crying,
the watchman whistling, the poor old discarded man dying,
Late in the night, in despair, in front of this latop I stare
in the emptiness , the silence, the end of the Kolkata affair
A limping career , and a upcoming life,
obviously, there will be EMIs, a car, a flat and a wife
Fruitful, may be , my tonights night out,
an every day regulation and nothing to clout
All the work, the buggy eyes,
no matter what I do , how many tries
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