This City — My City
This city, my city is a piece of art —
It moves me, It inspires me
And it is beautiful
When I am in the heart of the city
Amidst the hustle and bustle of the traffic —
Within the chaos, the dust, and the smoke
Or when I am perched up somewhere in surrounding hills
And from a unique vantage point,
I get a view of the city
Sometimes from up in the skies, from behind the clouds
There’s the birds’ eye view of the valley, the day turning into dusk
The city lights go up, and I am enamored — by the experience
This city, my city..
This is home,
Somewhere down there is my mother, probably going about her dailies
This is home,
The final resting place of a man who taught me patience beyond measure
This is home,
To all my memories, some that have scarred me and cut too deep
And to every other that have brought me immense joy
They are all etched onto my soul, my very being
This feels home,
And this city, the city I grew up in
from the gullies, to the chowks and the alleys
to the parts I have not yet seen
Every inch of it is me
And I, “as cliched as it sounds”, am its
This city, my city
It is a craftsman’s endeavor
It moves me, It inspires me
