A few words for Mumbai
Her avenues are stripped of their grandiose eloquence
By a jumble of smooth hands
Tugging into her thumping heart.
Her sea is sullied by the calm waves that crashed blood and a
Call to arms
Not the jumble of blue, green or orange swaying arms,
Kneeling down, or strolling, or dancing, or drinking coffee.
Her sanctuaries call out to prayer with
Whose cries are for a pulsing life-force,
A compassionate beat.
She will not rot, or cry, or fall to her aching feet,
For she is the ground beneath those toes that have carried a million hopes,
And she is the treasure behind the homes that have launched a million dreams.
Her avenues are stripped of their grandiose eloquence tonight,
Still she breathes poetry from her ancient lips
in peaceful chants,
Shanti, be still, she counsels.
November 29th 2008