17th July 2015
The summer night’s sweat disappears like a drop of morning dew
Today is a new day, a new opportunity.
July’s sun is not scorching here,
Who knew that I’d wake up to this place?
A place filled with yellow rickshaws.
It’s Bangalore, a city that never sleeps,
A city with juvenile merchants-
Who sell stickers and books in the traffic signals-
MG Road or Commercial Street, the innocent faces surround the shoppers.
Those faces have sufficient stories to tell.
But they are shooed away by the ignorant hippies.
Today, I hired an auto and the driver was a Muslim.
He had a famous surname which is easily recognized in Bollywood~
He was Khan. Yousif Khan.
He spoke pure Islam, The unadulterated one.
He ecstatically, blissfully said that Nepalese were the best people he’s ever seen.
The unrehearsed conversations and inquisitions carried on.
Meanwhile a red traffic signal gleamed and we were stuck
That’s when a girl of 7-8 years stepped and insisted me to buy her stickers
Like the one you see in infamous movies, exactly like that,
Asking the mid-aged man to buy a rose to his annoyed girlfriend
But here, she was not a flower girl; she just sold the illustrated labels of some animated hero’s
Neither there was a heroine or a hero- it was just a poet!
I gave her a ten rupees note and she gave me one label which had yellow smileys
One tiny lad was searching for another cab like a prey,
where he can go and convince the passengers to buy his adorned pen.
Trivial things they sell don’t cost more than ten rupees.
They walk without slippers and we proudly stand in Steve Maidens
But live in the same earth, where is the equality?
Is it their Karma?
The vision of Commercial Street is prominent.
People drag their family carrying branded take-away bags.
Here a preteen nags a family to buy the dusty wrinkled stickers but they strictly discourage her.
Another signal of the traffic, red!
That’s when the city seems yellow-the ardent citizen’s familiar color.
Encountering twilight’s beauty and the glimmering light,
I see, it’s a beauty with a pleasing sight.
Like a feast to ones eye.
Bangalore’s Eid is as flamboyant as Ganesh Chaturthi or Christmas.
This city loathes racism, I assume!
But that (Eid’s) night was really bright and busy.
In some corner people were intoxicated and few, tipsy.
The service roads still covered by the rickshaws,
Where every rider of this motor vehicle experiences a new pleasant ’emotional response’
A thought, unaffordable than a cigarette-when you want to smoke but you are penny less.
An engineer or tech-freaks, everybody becomes a scribe after an auto ride.
That’s the power of this yellow rickshaw which plies in this beautiful city-Bangalore!