Mumbai – The city of dreams

My city runs on fire,
It is not a city, its an emotion.

“Allow us to stand…we are on the footboard”, in locals,where people pray,
The aunty beside me , makes place for me, asking,” Are you okay?”
Where there is water logged up every July,
There are hands who join up, to save the ones, about to die.

Where people starve due to lack of rice,
I see a man, offering vada pav, to a kid, at Marine Drive.
Where innocent women go through a disaster,
There is still a Share-cab driver,making my journey comfortable ,at Dadar.

A megapolis where we become modern day by day
And yet there are those who go to Siddhivinayak every Tuesday,
There are those who lob everywhere tetra packs
And also citizens who clean Girgaum Chowpatty by the sacks.

“We can afford food at the Taj”, where people say,
There is a Chotu, selling a cup of tea,for free, at the India Gateway.
Where people die to shop at the Bandra fashion street,
There is a saint, donating clothes,at Haji Ali,to make ends meet.

At Powai, where I see a tall skyscraper,
There is a man, working to provide Electricity, at the slum ,in Ghatkopar.
Where I see people fighting for religious reservations,
There are still Muslims ,who provide shade to Hindus,in emergency situations.

Where there are people pick-pocketing insensitively,
There is still a man, telling me, to pick up my fallen note, at Andheri.

Where people are moaning,” Our lives are nothing worth”.
There is still an NGO, working for women who give birth.

For every cry, I have in my city,
I have a smile, making up the melody.
For every loud honk and horn that beeps,
I have my city, “Which Never Sleeps!”

My city runs on fire,
It is not a city, its an emotion.

– Dhwani Panjwani