She may be loud and noisy
Sometimes black as soot
But she’s lovely, my city,
colorful Bengaluru
In summer, she goes red,
Gulmohar,we call her then
The birds, chirpy and well fed
Make their home in her shade
The monsoons cool her down
As the heat gets to her
The smell of petrichor on the lawn
Removes the sweat and grime off her
Oh then comes the winter
Her roads are a colorful carpet
of flowers pink and purple
A hue,no paint,can own
Yes,she’s smelly,sometimes,horrid,
Tests your patience in the traffic jam
The noise,the wait in summer torrid
Or the rainwater gushing,as if
from a dam
But she’s great in her entirety
As sweet as the akash mallige she adorns
Whenever you have the time,stop and listen
Understand her mood,don’t let her down.
–Poornima Dasharathi
Unhurried Tales 