"पैसाको दौड""The Race for Money"

Before the light has even arrived, he's running,
Chasing something he can't quite name.
Notes in his pocket, a hollow in his chest,
Walking so long he forgot the way home.

The friend who once stayed now says, "I'm busy,"
There's no time to answer his mother's call.
Bonds are weighed on the scales of profit,
And love isn't sold in any market at all.

Those who held his hand pulled away,
Each one chose the road that served his own.
They climbed on the shoulders that lifted them,
Then kicked the ladder once they were grown.

Money built the house, but no one lives in it,
Money filled the table, yet hunger remains.
A golden plate, and still an empty heart,
He bought everything except peace of mind.

But one evening, when the daylight fades,
No bank balance will rest a hand on his shoulder.
That day he'll learn, far too late,
He never lived. He only earned.