written by: Ipsita Banerjee
I never can call you “Mumbai”:
In one corner you will always remain
The Bombay of my youth, of dreams and wild forays
Into Baghdadi and Leopold.
Taj Hotel stands stately, Brabourne stadium echoes a flood
We’ve come a long way lately, it’s been “so far so good.”
Memories creak into my bones Bombay, I remember you well.
Memories woven with rain washed streets at dawn
Autos racing from Dadar station crocheted into blankets at Nanavati
Where my father’s voice was forever silenced.
With an expert scalpel.
Oh Bombay, you carry my weight
My sighs, my laughter, my tears
And you live with me as surely as I live with myself
Triumphant and lonely as a cancer
Coursing through my veins.
NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR:
A poem about the city, Bombay as it was called earlier. A city I have visited on different occasions in times of extreme distress and extreme joy, never in indifference.