Wild and uncaring, though she may seem,
it is only so because she has grown a lot over the years
and that has hardened her.
In some ways planned, in some unplanned,
she has broadened her horizons in all directions
and sheltered many a new traveler.
Her charm is irresistible, so potent that once one has had a whiff,
one cannot not help but breathe in more of her; her scent -
that freshly washed and slightly damp fragrance of the early morning,
that sweaty yet heady smell of a crowded busy afternoon,
the mellow fragrance of dusk flowers and hot tea,
and the climax of the dessert and incense.
One is enticed by her, and does not wish to leave,
and the patsy that she is, she simply welcomes them, her arms wide open.
It is not once that this happened,
piece by piece,
she has given herself to every one who claimed to need.
Everyday she awakens to a gentle hum, the birds are always dawn’s companions.
A day so ripe with opportunities, even the lush hills are green with envy.
As the golden sun starts to glare, the cars zoom, the kids chatter and
she quietly listens to the sounds of the day.
Toiling away in an office, on the field, in the battlefield fighting with fate,
she only has love in her arsenal and memories to keep her company.
Chords of playful music, and the dogs’ orchestrated barking herald in the traffic home.
The absolute chaos on the streets suffocates her, she chokes on the smoke and her arteries
clog up with the fuel burnt by a thousand.
Finally, the slumber of the buzzing night as she tucks in after a late night.
There was a time, when she stood in all her glory.
Anyone to wander through the maze that she was, would be lost.
Not only because there was so much to explore, but also since her depth seemed boundless.
One could spend hours pondering and tinkering about, but none can claim to have known her whole. She still stands,
her glory diminished by the years of wear.
Her depth does not cease to amaze, to the few who still venture forth.
She is every woman. She is Pune, my city, my muse.
