A Metro Poem by Angelina Pandian

A Metro

Rating: 3.0

Today it is a crowded city
It is a metro I paint
Busy, busy the city itself
Buzzes busily!
The cars that screech and honk
The buses overflowing
With people hanging out
Like plants from hanging pots
The cyclist weaving in between
With no fear or care of harm
The motorist has his say
Throwing in a few swear words
In the most unheard of slang.
Everyone is in a hurry
Children packed into autos
Office going ladies catch a van
The men sometimes load
A whole family of four or five
Dropping each one on the way
Not for any fuel saving cause
But, just to economize!
Old people we rarely see
Most of them either live
In Old Age Homes or
If lucky in some village
Or town’s ancestral home
Waiting for occasions
Birthdays, Annual holidays
Which will bring grandchildren
Their way at least for a day!
The roads are broad and neat
But, by the platform edge
Stands the beggar in the dust
If you happen to halt
At some signal red, then
A throng of children half clad
Run around your car selling
Cheap wares before it is green!
It is a Metro, Yes, it is!
It has its Malls, Pubs and Clubs
It has its Flying Train
The high raise builds all
Stand grand clad in steel and glss
It has its IT Parks and SEZs
Multiplexs, MNCs, Shopping areas
Just for Gold or Clothes or Shoes
Dot the guide book in your hand
It was a chain of seaside villages
Royapuram, Mylapore, Tiruvanmyur
So long ago, then a little Seaport
Called Madrasapattinam
It beckoned traders from far and wide
The ruling seat of Britishers it became
Hustles and bustle our city has seen
It is a living being, each day
Spreading her territories wide
Surrounding urban areas have been
Engulfed by its increasing size!
The city has grown and is growing still
But, basic facilities still waver to keep up
With the fast paced growth and leave
Much amenities wanting still!
The roads at noon are scorching hot
Having lost their trees to widening work
The flyovers now are all over town
That you have to climb one
To get to the tea shop
On the other side of the road
The signal lights some work some don’t
The electricity comes and goes
Like a guest or visitor to your home
Yet, still it is our city
And we call it home!
Where are the rules you may ask
All is there but, there’ll be
No change as long as we accept
And live in silent tolerance!


lovely angel you brought the history of the city, , , thru out the write i was on the road

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premji premji 17 May 2009

a real metro made of words........angel..you are a painter.......

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