The lunch was always a quick affair,
Tucked between returning from school
And leaving for the tuition on the pretty little bike.
The tiffin at school was heavier,
The evening snack, healthier, familiar.
The lunch, the ignored meal of the day.
With our feet running the rat race,
The laptop bag digging into the shoulder,
There are no more mid-day tiffins.
Mother no longer serves the evening snack,
Or maybe she does, and I’m no longer home.
Fighting off competition, and my own demons.
Breakfasts are now hurried,
Dinners gobbled up at midnight,
And Lunch, it’s now @ 5.
Poem nahi hai khaas to hate to mat karo yaar,
Abki bar……. Dhurrrr Burbak!