Quiet solitude – a mirage in today’s complex society,
The hubbub of life- the noisy over crowded suburban trains,
The traffic bottle necks and the multitude of crowds that pass through these,
The noise that pours forth then, is the very essence of a metropolis’life.
The working mother who potters about in the kitchen,
Hurrying through the morning chores,
The cry of the baby in the cradle,
The cacophony of the speeding suburban trains,
Is the very soul of the Mumbai life.
Blasts rock Mumbai,
Another city, another place, the life would come to a grinding halt,
The ever busy ‘Mumbaikar’
Runs back home, walks back home in the ensuing melee
Scared by the loss of life.
But, soon not later than the very next day,
He is back on the streets.
Life goes on as if nothing has ever gone wrong.
Take him away from the madding crowd,
He will gasp for a breath of the polluted air,
His ears will perk up for the high decibel sounds,
He will yearn for the ‘clock-work’ pattern.
The sound of milk crates ‘down loaded’
Seem to blend with the sound of birds.
The rays of the rising sun,
Seem to raise the hopes of school going kids.
The busy metropolis,
Holds out the hopes for a better tomorrow.