A Start AwaitingA Poem by Subham ChatterjeeA Start Awaiting . © Accentuation 2010To a new city, do my words flow free -- Non-chalant, infectious - thoroughly seeping through me , A slow sea, one water , other of us -- crowded trains, Night-Neons-Noise, my heart goes out to its beating rains!
Mumbai it is then, as I start my day, Me, just a soul , among its mighty sway Of lives, a harbinger of oblivion and reminisce, Mumbai, a place, catering to fair and unfair - a piece.
As, from my new felt home , do I start today, To a place , where amusingly I get my pay, A statuesque city does catch my eye, Like a grand old soul , caught amidst the rye .
Through the tinted glass of an over-used bus, Could I see the mingled, random eight'o clock rush, No glimpse of a second look-- of those busy faces - can u catch , As the city turns its back to all those closed doors' latch.
As an when it starts to rain, It blows off any empty essence of Mumbai's terrain. With every puddle of splash the tyres create Disturbing the droplets, from some overflown trail articulate.
As we slow down, with vapours crowding the screen, A carefree school-boy , his paper boats , a sailer within, With each rise in the water, waits to smile The drenched quest soul, looks afar his boats, from a mile.
By and by, with passing time and with road's every new turn, From my bus, I see a small teashop's steam run, Cooler, smoother, as it may get -- Warmer with a morning that starts off wet ..
I wouldnt try to write more though, Let me end- a more 'next time' is in waiting in a row, A pool of incidents, still does run through my vein, All thanks to a beautiful girl's borrowed pen .
-- Subham Chatterjee. © 2011 Subham ChatterjeeReviews
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Added on July 24, 2011Last Updated on July 24, 2011 AuthorSubham ChatterjeeBangalore, IndiaAboutthere is no cure for birth and death , save to enjoy the interval ! more..Writing
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