The Race Against Time

. walks through the corridors , and the morning lanes.. bunking those classes, and flying those planes.. I miss being 17 again.. Sitting by the window i met my past.. The times i partied, Times i had a blast.. miss those friends, and miss those rains, I miss being 17 again.. Twice those years, i met my love.. Love at first sight, most ecstatic,not plain.. Things never get fine, But i loved those days.. I miss being 17 again.. Well, i miss those years, and you miss them too.. But there's a string of joy, That connects us through.. i know,they'll be here, when i'm in pain.. i wish i was 17 again.. Oshan..

. spoon full of sand, not the morning dew.. lives just sidle, split and skew.. steps may mingle steps, not always walk through.. some scars are so deep, enough to kill the crew.. if left are, memories, when back, a crime.. if lost is, luck, but, to lose is prime.. and,if you lose, you are a fool.. and,if you don't, you are a tool.. Oshan..