Sunday, August 09, 2009
People of Mumbai travel dangerously,
They just cannot wait,
For, empty train may not arrive,
You see their body protruded out,
Against the polluted air,
They reach home with a cake of dust,
Masking their body with dirt and sweat.
Many not sure
If they will arrive
In one piece when they will reach home,
So dangerously, travelling in this style,
Not afraid of banging on any pole...
Because of a ruthless killer,
The riots break loose and break the roof,
Of train, that throws many people around,
Their mangled bodies don't ever reach home.
Yes, this is Mumbai,
That we all know.....
It is made of people
Who just live each day,
Will they see one more day,
As a lone Mumbaite,
One never knows.....