I hopscotch my way on the sidewalk everyday

through carts selling their wares

their aroma travelling with me everywhere!

Trying to save my feet from stepping on some careless spit,

or tripping over a beggar woman sleeping,

amidst the chaos on the street!

Cars and buses honking,

speeding as if they are in a race,

A sea of people crossing the street each at

their own lazy pace!

Filth strewn around,

stray dogs searching through them with a frown.

A rag picker shooing them away

A battle sure on its way!

A motley crowd outside a store,

peeping through its glass façade,

to catch the cricket score,

all in the midst of a working day,

so engrossed in the play!

A city bereft of style and glamour,

but always boasting of its intellectual flavor.

Where politics is discussed passionately

for hours, over innumerable cups of tea,

where any advice comes , without  a fee!

I ask myself now and then,

why do I belong here?

I guess somewhere in this madness, in this mayhem

is a city with a soul filled with love,

which embraces all,

and engulfs them in its warmth!

The city of Mother, Tagore and Bose

 to its sondesh, illish and doi,

nothing in the world ever comes close!

Lapierre’s City of Joy and mine too

My Kolkata, my city,

Here I proudly come home!