To the outsider
his life is a bed of roses,
with all comforts of life
accompanying him,
to the envy of everyone.
Behind the façade of glitterati
Behind the mask of diplomacy
his mind
a boiling sea
fear, ambitions, dreams, anxieties,
race for one-upmanship
all concocted.
Behind his invited smile
his mind is a tight-stringed
violin, too tensed up
Even while chasing mental peace
for which he is always
willing to pay a heavy price
that which eludes him
is nothing but this.
Except this much sought after peace,
everything is within
his easy reach
but the mirage of
tranquility
glides past him
the more he runs after it
the far it goes fast
giving him no respite.
Still with restlessness abound
his thirst to reach
atop the material-
comforts
he runs
non-stop
that too
giving him no rest….
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