My love-hate affair with Bombay (am stuck with the old name) began 7 years ago, when I came here as a trainee in the advertising industry. Much has happened since then in my experiences with the city and I can dedicate a whole new blog to narrate them. In the meantime, I found this poem in the form of a forward from an old friend…it paints quiet a picture. Anybody who has experienced the city will appreciate it.
A good city to fall in love
Bombay is a good city to fall in love.
My lover lives eight trainstations and two full bus-stops away.
Ten rupees of distance between us.
Courage comes easy.
The citypocked with couples, suspended in amour.
Wet monsoon shivers, filling streetfood. Midday reads to share.
Obstacles, like the sour smell of suburban shit, humidity, thecrowded train.
All defeated by young love.
Bombay, yes, is a good city.
We spread handkerchiefs, sit on them.
One hand held, theother, busy eating something.
By the sea, you explain, we can sit forever.
But the beggars, and the sunset,respective waiting rooms,
dying rush hour, ease us off the sand.
This is the restrained, timed love of office-goers.
At Churchgate, I kept looking at your growingly tiny face.
My local pulling out. I am already fifty paisa away from you.
Yes,I love you.
A quick search on the google yielded the name of the poet...Neha Vishwanathan and she lives in London. You can find more of her works on her blog over here. Thanks, Neha for the nice poem!