Unscripted Charmer

He was the hero of his own movie,

Directing every scene as he pleases,

And the one I saw him in that day,

Was with the cold November breezes.

Riding his bike past me,

His hair flying all over,

Two buttons of his kurta unbuttoned,

Like some boy lover.

And he couldn't have done it better,

To draw all attention to him,

He was the hero of his own movie,

Singing his own rhythm.

stock photo