The Original Fakes

Whenever I go,wherever I go,I see people
And I always wonder, why there is so much pretension
I always wonder,why there is so much wonder artificiality
I wonder...

Why do people smear their faces with paint before going out?
Who are they afraid of?
Whom do they want to impress?

There is always a profound interest as to what should be worn,what should be not
Will white go with gray?
Or,will a blue black combination make me look handsome?
Had for once they cared to look,they would have known that it is their soul which needs some clothing
They perfect their body odour by Axe,Lomani and the oh-so-new perfumes launched by the bollywood stars
But,when your soul is naked and it stinks,no amount of Armani or Lomani is going to help
I want to say this to them
But,I can't
You see,the music is too loud
You can always buy a new set of cargos,low rise jeans,those perfect V-shaped T-shirts
But,till date I haven't seen one outlet which exchanges rotten morals

Their identity is so fickle that it changes,the moment they meet others
They are the actors in the real world
Eeeesh!You are not supposed to say this
Don't laugh loudly
Laugh with them
Be happy,when they're happy
Always do things, which you're supposed to do
Never do things,which you want to do

Everything they do has got strings attached
A scent of wannabeness
So,how many Vodka shots you had?
Three?Only three?
I had nine
And I'm just fine

But,whatever man
The party was great
I enjoyed a lot
Did you?