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The City, the Solitude, the Soul

Every time
I try to fall in love with this city
I fail miserably.

Somewhere, perhaps
In a dirty corner,
In a nasty crevice,
In a squalid lane,
In the slush of drain
In some smoky street,
In some noisy cafes,
In the madness of tavern,
Above a haughty sky-scraper,
Down the corridors of power,
Under some dense cluster,
Under some muddy feet,
Is hiding its soul……..

There she writes,
About the historic aura
The grave of Omar Khayam,
About monsoon rains
Episoding the excruciating heat,
About peacocks and dance,
About bangles and romance,
About ruins, history, chance,
Poetry evoked by city,
Poetry! From filth, dirty,
An aimless roaming
In its airless streets,
The solitude in the sole
The soul in solitude,
In college, in university,
I try to fall in love with this city
I fail miserably.


I look at the elusive vehicles,
I look for soul,
I drink coffee with you,
I wish to drink from soul,
I listen to the grunt of donkeys,
I hobnob with the landlord,
I pay, I lodge,
Try to gather my peace,
I try to take it home,
Heart aches, heart says
‘Console it ably…….
The sole in solitude,
Try to fall in love with this city’

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