Rants of Mumbai

December arrived by the creaky door .
I couldn’t sense the nippy steps of winter.
Mumbai is unadorned with the complexity of human emotions,
Every thing is taken for granted here ,
Even Tragedy is for barter .
This dream is dry , like a canvas painted with grey .
Like a devotion without his idol
This metropolis is too simple , too candid ,
too level-headed , too cruel .
She exist like a whore, without lies, without heartbreaks,
No fallen leaves to be trampled
No breeze with nippy memories

No leftover petals in unfinished pages of dreams

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