MUMBAI

Here, the days are busy and bright
And the nights are amply light
In bars and pubs, people get tight
That is, as a matter of course, all men’s delight

Folks commute miles and miles
Of varying creeds and life styles

where work is every citizens’ right
And for freedom, they really fight
Observe her rattling might
How appealing is her sight!

On a roller coaster is her economy
That writes human destiny
For some, it’s a galvanizing entity
And for some, it’s a sad irrationality

The skyscrapers are tall and high
Terrorists’ attack, their end draws nigh
The soldiers fight and the ministers sigh
The masses call for election, roar and cry

While I walk in every street, and polluted air I breathe
I see scars of depression and angst in every faces I meet
Then, I move along the Arabian shore
The splendid sea, I adore

Copyright © 2012 RAMU DAS

My Torturing Hair

Oh, my goddamned hair!
Are they really my hair?
Or are they some telephone wire?
With me, why can’t they be a little fair?
Like Maggie my hair whirl
And like cyclone they twirl

Strong as nylon
And no effect of thunder-storm
Thicker than an inch, so inhumanely!
Manufactured on my head so gruesomely!

Wash your utensils economically
Use my hair abundantly
Cut with axe or use your sophisticated weaponry
For my hair are harder than trigonometry

Chopping my hair
I end up my misery
Resembling a military
Finally, I live a life full of dignity!

Copyright © 2012 RAMU DAS