Indoors

The streets and the wafting scent,

Of piping hot coffee and the plethora,

Of pockets of taste – crispy, crunchy and spicy.

The hustle on the road and the bustling crowd,

Two wheelers squeezing through the pavements,

And the honking and the havoc.

The roadside vendors, the pull carts,

The aroma of life and the flavors of being,

And the lazy walk maneuvering the chaos.

They say it’s happening, they say life is on,

They say it’s all the same and ever the same.

The streets are the same, but bleak and grey.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s