Echoes in the Silent City

Every day, I see the same, but does it always feel different? The sun rises in the same sky, nice and high, Cars and people go about their tasks—each playing a part. And here I am in the IT hub, where even the clubs fall apart. The slum dwellers seem happier than me, While I battle my inner storms quietly. India's bursting with crackers, but here there's a different finish line, A place with no time for anything, just endless traffic signs. Wandering here and there, I sometimes fear, What if the quiet swallows me, dear? I'd burst into tears, for there's no one with time for me, And those who stay have already turned away silently. A silent crowd fills the streets, Where even whispers vanish unless spoken loud. Trains and buses don’t stop to linger, Opportunities come and go like a fleeting advertisement. Small mistakes echo; big ones fade dumb, Crumbled tears and emotions dissolve in the swarm. If you want to be heard, you must shout, Stay grounded, but let your strength scream out. So be strong—stronger than you think you should.