Thirteen Candles.

Thirteen candles on your birthday cake,

You blow them, as a wish you make,

That teenage's fun, is merely a myth,

Let me tell you, its nothing but filth.

And If you're from India, the rising nation,

The land of temples, beauty and inflation,

where graduation just mean immigration,

And where emotional stress mean education.

They shove down our throats, textbooks raw,

College and tuitions maginify our every woe,

Like printing machines, we copy what they tell,

A dozen times until our bodies make us yell.

For all exams, we came, we saw, we failed.

Then we put on sad faces and wailed.

Then admission, the rat race for seats, begin,

And the backward classes are the ones to grin.

Our love escapades all go always wrong,

For love we long, but it never lasts long.

Your facebook status makes you cool,

fake an attitude or you're a fool.

Smoke and drink, then you're in, they say,

Have a girlfriend or else you're gay,

Guys turn flirts and girls turn sluts,

Ride a bike or you dont have guts.

Grab a guitar, flaunt it, grow your hair,

Say you're atheist, fall in a band snare,

Then make out in public, now thats the trend.

Splurge, get spoilt till it's hard to fend.

Careers  are forced when we're five,

we're brought up like bees in a cultured hive,

Here passions die and job prospects rule,

You carry all burden like a labour mule.

They say, you're too young for a skirmish,

Yet, old enough to avoid acts, childish.

Your mood swings in and out against your wish,

You wish to break free from your niche.

That Thirteen's sinister; is a well known fact,

Teenage's a phase which needs just tact,

Childhood's gone; I'm on teenage saddles,

I wish I didn't blow out those thirteen candles.