Treading into the swarming streets,
Abstracted, I perceived the unceasing,
Hither and thither of nippers,
Antipasto, in their tiny hands,
Murmuring lips and lit up faces,
Brought a wide smile on my cheeks.
Sky above me had a rainbow,
But the air in streets, foul with fumes,
And smoke had much diverse colours,
Noisy, crowded heap of voices and faces,
Some hurried foot steps on the pavement,
Mangled veggies and fruits scattered all over.
On the byway, a feeble bent woman,
Brimming eyes and browned fingers,
Few coins lying before her,
Selling the packets of popcorn,
Filled my heart with warmth,
My eyes could find my grandma in her.
My nose ran towards something luscious,
Hand waving at a stranger who could guide me,
All the way to reach that smell,
Being cooked at the corner of the boulevard,
The flecks of sweat seasoned the food,
Bet! Nothing could be more delectable ever.
My eyes caught an ice cream vendor,
Uttering the names of all flavours,
Old and faded, a pale face that was lit,
By the cries, laughter and waggishness,
Of children, adults and oldies,
Some hands both filled with ice creams.
I saw a ground with children playing cricket.
Far from my sight but I wanted to visit.
A line of rickshaw pullers appeared,
Upon reaching, my inner child came out
I played and hit some sixes, clicked a picture
Brought it as a souvenir, "my last match eva".
Returning, on the way, saw a crowd
And amidst that a chaiwala
The tea flavoured with love and
Spices, "an indigenous one"
These streets had much more to tell,
I though had a lot more to explore.
Kept thinking and pondering over,
Till the sun got on my head,
Putting a break on my thinking cap,
These streets,full of life gave me,
Beautiful"forever"memories and elation.
Far from the cities' dull and busy life.
I returned home but not alone,
With a soulful picture in heart and mind,
Of the place, the carefree laughter,
Bare means of survival but greeting faces,
I had a great story to tell my grandchildren,
A journey that had made a mark in my heart.