The gold has crashed,
the rupee wilted like a cheap bouquet,
Petrol and diesel cough their last, “Fill up? No way!”
We dream of e-bikes, sleek and green,
Until the power bill arrives, another unpleasant scene.
Rain pours down, we lift our hands in vain,
It sizzles on the skin - acid rain!
Zuck and Musk are reading every moan and curse,
Selling our sighs to advertisers, line by line, reverse.
I grab a glass of water, take a hopeful sip,
Tastes like tomorrow’s regret and a tiny microchip.
Cheers to fences rising while the world shrinks small-
At least the view’s exclusive… if you can afford the wall!
Rita