Hardik Vaidya Poems

I am walking on a road, crowded, overflowing to its brim.
I am reminded of Samuel Coleridge,
People people everywhere and not a soul to kiss.
I am reminded of Alfred Lord Tennyson
...

I love you.
I can see you,
What the hell is new?
I wait.
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Hey Mumbai.
Remember me?
I came to you, a refugee.
From jobless and hapless Oh Calcutta.
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I am angry at my self.
Really really mad.
I tried sincerely to convince,
But as stubborn that he is,
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I was sauntering back after a sumptuous lunch,
While this poem came as an well awaited and longed for burp.
Been to an old fav joint, the paranoid would prefer to avoid.
It is called the Pancham Puriwala, opposite CST station,
...

Drona was supposed to be a guru,
He asked for the thumb of his student,
An Archer of all Archers,
Ekalavya.
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I am a meandering stream,
Not perennial, but rain fed,
By the waters of your eyes,
Not your tears.
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I am a fair man,
Don't count me with the turkeys who dig their heads in sand.
I have the mind of an American,
The roots of an Indian, by that I do not mean a red Indian.
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Cables of all types, threading and snaking.
Through light poles,
Tree holes,
Atop roofs,
...