Born in the laps of a wonderful city
Struggling and surviving its nity-gritty,
We left it when I was three,
And, shifted to a small town,
But , my heart was left there,
I visited it only in my vacations,
To that grandparents home, the sea,
And , the huge fig tree,
In the city of dreams,
Where it is easy to tread on roads,
And, Difficult to sustain ,
But, won't let you go disdain,
I promise you , it takes a lot,
May be more than a lifetime,
To understand the mystery of this city,
When you give yourselves,
It pays you back in ounces,
Hold your roots tight,
And , don't give up without a fight,
Be alert and stay safe,
Proceed with caution , and never leave your grace,
There are some angels on the forlorn roads,
And devils in some of the luxury cars,
Mumbai is a mystery to be unfold,
Who speaks to the unheard and listens the untold,
Ever saw that starry night under the fig tree,
Ever felt that breeze on the sea-shore free,
The splashing of the waves clears all the ill,
Filing your mind with new thrill,
Remember playing 'pakda -pakdi' with the waves,
The sweat of your brow knows no cast,
There is just one rule, "Run Fast !"
Generations of people, have survived in its womb,
To the deceased and the unhealthy, Mumbai lends its tomb.
(PS : MUM - BHAI- A mother who welcomes with open arms and brother that defends.)
