THE SMELL OF MUMBAI

This foreigner, my friend,

Who flew in from England,

Was with me in the car,

We chatted as the hotel was far,

He looked out, I was glad he would see,

The streets, the drains,

Celebrations, love, disdain,

The dome of the mosque,

The temple's bells,

He was amused, I could tell,

Liquor, sherbet, holy water,

Highways, lanes,

The Arabian Sea,

But suddenly he asked

'What is this smell of?

Is this the smell of Mumbai I read about?'

I smelled nothing and he asked again,

I said nothing, he laughed,

I wondered,

'How could I smell my own breath?'

From my Poems: HERO