A lot of people stand in a queue to fetch.
A little plot of land, and
A lot of people bid for a place to get.
By the day it is turning gloomier, yet
There is unfathomable bonhomie –
More of pits, less of roads
While people keep carrying their own loads.
Everyone hopes to reach
Somewhere – someday!!
If you had a notion,
Discard your fake emotion
About Calcutta – our Calcutta.
In a very typical way,
In Calcutta, a typical day
Would be marked by thirty accidents, three murders, a rape
And then again a further million things – grey.
One may wonder how cold I show,
Especially being from this very ‘City of Joy’;
Let me elaborate on a few things I know
Being just another Calcutta boy.
A cabbie parked at the happening College Square
Wouldn’t move an inch at the meter-down fare.
I didn’t notice the vehicle number,
But as an onlooker rarely would any Calcuttan care.
A lady in pink boarded and it flew
And the meter did go down for someone new.
Next day I was flipping through the pages of the news
And the front page was all about taxi all through.
First byte read that a cabbie, obviously frustrated,
Feasted on a young reporter near Sealdah Junction,
Who, was headed, for a criminal of repute
To settle the way her alimony should function.
The police had tried hunting that cab down
But had failed as it had sped away.
There was no further news on the cabbie,
He must have found a way.
Next byte was regarding a speeding taxi
That had crashed into an office premises building
After running over two pedestrians;
But gossip didn’t have the other news’ ending.
Next morn at College square was the same old taxi
And the cabbie was willing to keep his meter down.
I was glad that he wasn’t the guy in the news
But all he got from me was a frown.
Next up the Eden would host some international cricket match
And people would go berserk to find a solitary ticket.
India eventually would go on to win the match
And the next day the dailies would have nothing but cricket.