Making Love To The City

I want to embrace you....
hold you in my arms....
half sunk in the saline waters
clustered with promfrets and bombay ducks....
and run my hand slowly.....
over your railway tracks....
your humble spine....

I want to rub my cheeks
on your smooth sands
and run my fingers
through the messy network of wires.....
suspended above
to hold the sky
if it everfalls over you......

I want to touch those sky scrapers and rising towers
lightly.....with my nose tip
and fill in the smell
of old English heritage
spirts of whichstill hover
in minds
and lanes........

draw circles with the tip of my finger
over the maidans, parks and grounds
and hold in my palms
the numerous houses
you bear....

I want to kiss those pools and ponds in you
and see them blush in ripples
and rest my head
in the hills tall and short owned by palaces some
some encroached by huts....

Hold the Irani Cafes
close to my chest
and let the special tea
seep into my heart
mix with my blood....
and feel the heatof oil pans
with vadas afloat
ready to rest
within the spread arms
of a Paav

and put my ear
to your heart
to listen to the cacophony
orchestrated by a thousand vehicles
standing close to each other
almost stuck
to disallow even stray gush of wind
to pass between them
waiting eagerlyto move on......

let the dabbawallas
run all over mein their network
to take my words
from my mouthto your invisible ears
which I altough don't see but know
that hear
my words
of unending love for you
of my wish...to make love to you
once
in the way you are...
before I loose you
as you walk on
holding the hand of time.....

(With all my Love....for the slowly changing structure of my dear......Mumbai)