I take pride in myself when things are going right, I think this is me/I doing this though knowing the fact deep in my heart that a puppet can't even move its own finger without the will of its master.
When the most difficult of the things (as they seem) are done, it swells even more.
But then comes a time when the simplest of the things (as they seem) elude me. And my pride stumbles into a corner a-trembling, bends its knees, fold its hands and weeps like it has never wept, finally destroying itself into the submission of one master.
The thing is done.
And my pride swells again.
I look at it, its unabashed flaunting and I smile and pity it for its hollowness. Tabhi har bar ye bajti hai (that's why it gets screwed everytime). All this is done to show me & make me understand this baseless nature, the vanity of pride.
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