A young man hangs from a mango tree. His kinky hair is darkened with a pencil. A deadpan face. Perhaps due to the last protruding thought, his eyes are not closed completely. This drawing seems perfect in all aspects. It reflects the modern children in the snare of synthetic drugs. The artist boy himself replies, “It’s DEPRESSION.” The word was unknown during our childhood! We used to draw homes, bullock carts or coconut palms leaning over the silver ripples. Many new gen boys lose their innocence in the chemical ecstasy. They prefer villainies. Not love, but lust grows. They loathe reading. Riding is their passion. In the classroom, they learn how to sleep secretly. The deadly drugs diffuse into their *sensoriums, filling the stupor with the fire-flies. Dejection dominates the residue. *Sensorium is the seat of sensation. First published in The Literary Hatchet.