There flows a river
And by its side there’s a world
Dilapidated, tightly knit
Yet on the outskirts of what we call a social limit
There I see elephants and a little further a new city
Come little closer, and I see the ruins of old age
And also broken bones of our victory
People jostling and moving for livelihood
People unknown and known stopping by
For Prayers offered to different Gods
But one cause, different faiths But one race,
In the heart of yours and his and hers
There is the sign of slavery
Look beyond and I see the fire Ever shouting in silence of our bravery
The fire within the fire outside The fire which has been burning inside
For 60 years
The causes, the beliefs, the atrocities
All united and all one
Marching together to mock the shackles
You can not catch them, they are the mob
Motivated for right or wrong T
hey will stay and some might go
Some would become the headlines tomorrow
You will discuss over a cup of tea In your barista or your office canteen
Blue is the line that runs in the nerves
Tubes also now fitted to it,
Steels and rods all round Concrete bed, and a few green lawns
The three legged visitor is a nasty one
Green and yellow is what it wears for pun
There I see a white lotus Standing still amongst all hocus
A little there is the haat and a little there is the gate
Could you see it standing tall
From where all children fall
Mumbo Jumbo and a Jantar Mantar
Casts her Magic from prince to sponger
I saw rising and falling
For years and centuries Scared and hiding
between the Arravalis And the ridges
Visited by so many
Dynasties after Dynasties
Mauryas and Lodhis Mughals the Afghans,
the English the Pandavs professed and confessed.
With the Blackouts and Brownouts And Power Play
The money, the less
The 26 winter day
The 15 rainy sky
The 2 of the 10th non-violence
The beating retreat of lights and colours
The festivals of all cultures
They get and they eat here
They take and dirty there
With modernity and tradition Walking hand in hand
Where abundance and scant are married
Where green is living in Smokey rooms
This is my city, Delhi, my Home

Delhi rocks and delhi missies you lady…come back soon
Always wanted to visit that city that’s been there since the beginning of humanity…
Pilpila Patlu what a name… Lol lol
dear constant motion, we are preparing material for young children in schools, to be used with the textbooks. I needed permission to use your poem. it will be published sometiem later, is low cost or no cost material so that govt schools can afford it.
we would love to give you credit. do reply
Sure Nidhi, go ahead. Lemme know whenever this gets published, would love to see that.