bombay is something else
the skyline
the filth
the dirt
the honkings
the secret longings
the wistful shared whispers
hushed beneath the benches
paper-cups
and the grime
the soot
the smudges and the stains
the women in half-sarees
their ankles shining
the loving parade of the besmirched everyday
the tring-tring that is long gone now
the birds that used to chirp
the whistle and the howls
the marathi half english and full hindi
the heaviness in the air
the unsettled feathers
the ruffles
the rough pushes
and the moist mumbles
the scourage
the rumble
the kiss on the lips
the eyes that never look
the half-kiss on the full lips
memories
paper-cup wafty things
membranes that shiver
a simmering touch
you smell of turmeric and sometimes you stink
through associations
running sweat lines
meeting at the brow
beads of exasperation
turmeric
the lost, the lovers, and the locals
regal drama
memories and stories
chevrons, curvy balconies, and bright colours back into our conversations
bombay
forever its self self