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Poem
We are the children of time 
That big round clock 
Arms like arrows 
Not a minute to be wasted 
In this precious cycle 
Of ambition 
We succeed 
While hearts bleed
Yet we go on and on. 
Growing up isn't tough 
Mature before puberty 
Nature versus nurture 
A mind like ours is never a child 
We are born fighters 
Running full speed 
Living the modern life 24*7.

Childhood was no fairytale 
Education only for the male 
Running the household 
Responsibility of the female.
Every mark mattered 
Couldn't afford to fail 
We had dreams to go to Yale 
Lopsided economies of scale.

Never heard a nursery rhyme 
Anything but calculus was a crime 
Professors of arts and humanities
Never earned a dime.
Peter Pan a fantasy 
Charlie's chocolates a forbidden ecstacy
Mowgli a triviality 
Winnie the Pooh served no practicality.

Industrious (child) laborers like us 
Live in a world of reality 
Where domestic violence is a commonality 
Amidst high infant mortality.
Basic necessities are scarce 
All the money gobbled up 
By the fatty Babu's of 
Our royal municipality.
Nasty neighborhood to live in 
Mass murders ain't a confidentiality 
Mafia's rewarded for their masculinity
No individuality 
Fear of homosexuality.

Dreaming dreams do no harm 
Waking up punched in the stomach
Not aided by an alarm 
Learning to shoot a gun before ABC 
My basti had no dearth of firearm 
Attracting pity is our only charm.

Working day and night 
50 rupees a month
One meal a day
Is our only right 
Reading by the moonlight 
Whenever free 
If caught dozing off 
Whipped brutally by the underdog 
A terrible affright 
No FIRs for our measly plight

To get out of that clumsy area 
Is a dream a come true 
But every Chotu 
Doesn't have a happy ending.
When you are but a mule 
A tiny part of a big racket 
Any wrong move 
And you are smashed like a bee 
Slammed like a fist 
Held in a cage 
Anything but flying free.
Gaining independence is rare 
Thinking of freedom a dare 
Every chaiwala ain't no 
Slumdog millionaire.
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