An ode to Delhi - Between You and I

And tired it sleeps, for tomorrow is yet another day
When it will be blazed by the sardonic summer sun
Blatantly gleaming at the season’s yellow flowers
That line its reminiscent, colonial boulevards

Those summer soirees must still commence
With pleasant chatters and sips of hot, promiscuous teas
Whether on a pavement’s broken bench
Or in the suites of the elite camaraderie.

And tired it sleeps, for tomorrow is yet another day
When hearts filled with purpose tread its artsy roads
While at another end in the blinding bling
There will be celebrations by phony, purposeless hosts

And tired it sleeps, for tomorrow is yet another day.
When Lutyen’s dream would have utterly failed
At the hands of fast burgeoning scrapers
Heartlessly tearing the city’s coveted veil.

And tired it sleeps, for tomorrow is yet another day
When it will be frayed by the winter wind
Numbing those helpless homeless hearts
That line the historic, colonial boulevards

That winter whining must still commence
With chatters and sips of hot, promiscuous teas
Whether on a pavement’s broken bench
Or in the suites of the elite camaraderie.