11/33 a tale of 2 cities

balmy bengaluru, a comfortable old friend
driving through roads in need of a mend
watching the kids roll on a balcony
aerosmith rocking the crowded gallery

feeling the rise of congestion
making the airport worse than dadar station
eating Kalavati's home cooking, licking the plate
waiting for the drunk watchman to open the gate

mixed emotions, sweet emotions
greeted by strangers at late night dosa stall
remembering the city had its beauties too
as the sun set glamorously over the rooftop bar

the comfort of relatives and family feeling
what have i inherited and what is my own
tics and tact, big black lab, who's beaming
walking with my dad in langforde town

dusty orange strike-hit delhi
get into a cab and sense the pulse
policemen loitiering on street corners
unfit and surely incapable of stopping anything

come home and feel home
electricity and water blues can't change my mind
what matters is what's inside i find
and all the confusion is left behind