Monday, April 4, 2011

Garden City

This is a place,
where with a twist of his hand,
the auto-wala turns the meter on;
unfamiliar sight in my land.

This is a city,
where the sun seems shy.
He seems hesitant to make me sweat;
Humidity here, is a lie.

This is a place,
with people speaking a tongue,
that seems familiar, yet distant;
like a word, by a strong hand, wrung.

This is a city,
that plays host to folks of every kind.
its own, ironically, seem forgotten; invisible;
one wonders why they've been left behind.

This is a place,
with the malls, the restaurants and the watering holes.
the young-uns cups for sure runneth over;
a city that transformed for these foals.

This is a city,
where you can truly shop till you drop.
Retail therapy is its own reward;
just know when it's time to stop.

This is a place,
with a cool evening breeze,
one that soothes and fondles your being,
more such simple pleasures, please.

This is a city,
that has embraced the wonder of concrete and steel.
and sent its old worldly charm out the door;
was it worth making, this deal?

This is a place,
that embraced me, calmed my mind;
but couldn't keep home-sickness at bay.
Thanks for this time, for being kind.

This is a city,
that's close to home, but never will be.
There's everything you want, here.
But then, there's something about me.

This poem is the first of a set of 30, one written every day in April as part of Robert Lee Brewer's April PAD (Poem A Day) 2011. April also happens to be National Poetry Writing Month. This is the prompt for Day 2 - Postcard poem. A fitting start to my poeming for this month, as I am away from home on a short vacation. Have tried a meter here, ABCB.


  1. Wonderful, you inspired me alright.

  2. I wasn't too happy with this, actually. Glad you liked it. :)