Two cities
One in the west one extreme east
A few good men lonely in a big city
Until they met each other.
Then came a gushing stream,
Of youth, euphoria and ecstasy
Life showed its colours,
But they had their own
They painted their life
In graffiti full of shades
Blue to red
Yellow to Fluoroscent
Orange was an invention
Shiv Sena to halogen
As the smoke choked their nerves
To arouse their senses
They wanted to build a Metro tunnel
From Bandra to Park Sreet to the hotels
From Lucky to Peiping
Bacardi glasses from Totos to Olypub
Swaying to the tunes at Hawaiian Shack
Banging the heads off at Some place Else
On the night of Christmas and the jingling of bells
The dream lingers still
The thoughts, fresh as morning dew
The story continues, of Kau, Pachu, Piku
Bhuto, Shonku and Diu.
And a lot of men, good and few.
1 comment:
How come I never saw this post?
nice, very nice. You have a unique language of your own, and I love it. You should not stop writing dude.
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