It’s that time of the year in India, when you find students pouring over their books, papers, laptops. I see them with their noses dipped

Following my heart, Daring to dream, Living without regrets
It’s that time of the year in India, when you find students pouring over their books, papers, laptops. I see them with their noses dipped
Don’t tell me you’ve never fallen Or ever felt broken? Haven’t we all, at some time? Some a wee bit; others’ a wee bit more.
The rains have finally hit Mumbai after a long spell of summer. And everybody is rejoicing. No one is complaining of traffic delays, clothes not
Silently, stealthily, you come, Not a knock on the door, Not even a warning call, You walk right in… Turning a deaf ear to our requests,