Life of a metropolis
Under the sickle moon, a few chosen stars,
In the seedy part of town, beer , dance bars,
In unknown acts of kindness by many,
In the religious fervor of the temple,church bells, azan calls timely,
In the delicious, overladen tables at restaurants ,
In the hunger, in the eyes of the people, not at the table, in these jaunts,
In the square lighted boxes of apartments,
In the tarpaulin covered shanty tents,
In pot hole ridden bumpy rides on yesterday's roads,
In the blaring horns at the chowk nodes,
In the speeding golden lights on the overpasses,
Pulsates, throbs the life of the metropolis.
--shubha
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