The guitar tunes now seem to tire,
the vigour seems to melt, the rain seems to overpower fire.
A vocation, just one, is the only desire.

Let not the aves turn on me now,
‘coz I have two lives to feed and a boat to row-
the two, who since twenty years, view in me, their mights secure,
the two for whom I’m the only light, I’m the only cure.
A vocation- no kite, no bike- just one, can lead to the shore.

I’m the idol for the younger ones,
but this mirage, I want to show, is not of the misruns.
O God, thou art is fire,
O God, let me have my desire.
No more frens. No more ties.
No more styles. No more dreamy flights.
A vocation, just one, is needed in files.
A vocation, just one, can bring back smiles.

Being the eldermost of the youngers in the family,
the future of it is based on me entirely.
For the new generation to start, I’ll have to enter the world now;
it’s me who’ll have to make way without melting snow;
a vocation, just one, will have to follow.

I know that ‘fire’ shall return once more,
the season of darkness shall also feel insecure.
I’ll work hard. I’ll not stay mute;
after all I’m the youth, the vigoures youth.
vocations, not one, shall see this route.
Hopefully… this’ll be the route…
Hopefully…