Of all the ticking hours of the day,
I crave for the evening to come,
With so many faces.
The suit-clad tired of the day-load
A merry group out for a hangout
Another having an intense debate
That old soul obeying his routine
A duo on a sneaked out date
That lady with her empty basket,
Happy with the day’s sell
And me, with my twinkling thoughts.
Different beings, unaware of each other
Letting out the same sigh of comfort,
As the kettle pours down little happiness.