Yeahh. :D

Treading over the broken roads,
In my rubber slippers,umbrella in hand,
The rain keeps falling,drop by drop.
Lithe,lively,bouncing off the broken rafters,
Like soldiers conquering an unknown land.

The fruit sellers haggle with the customers,
And water runs off the tarpaulin in little streams.
Forming small puddles on the walkway.
Yet amidst all this chaos,I find myself strangely at peace.
For this is my city,the land of lost dreams.

But alas,there is but one thing,
Loud enough to bring me out of my reverie.
The blaring horns of all those cars,buses,
autorickshaws,who are perpetually in a hurry,
Black-topped "babumoshais",with their spectacles all gone awry.

And in the middle of all this confusion,
The rain falls,slowly but steadily,
Calming all those exposed to it's touch,
With that exotic smell,of Mother Nature reborn.
Somewhere,in a makeshift shelter,an infant wails lustily.

And in your average house,the famished son returns,
Only to be greeted with steaming "Khichudi".
For it is a tradition,that the
Sons must never go hungry.
Because home,is where the heart can be free.

So many unknown faces,
So many fascinating things that I am yet to see.
So many lights,colours,sounds
That I see,feel and take in.
For this,this is Kolkata.The place where I want to be.