City...of joy?
My City. She's like my ex-girlfriend. Howsoever much she's hurt me, however much we have been there, done that, however she might have shattered me into pieces at times, and did'nt let me go beyond the boundaries of expected realizations; I just cannot move on. I still cannot get over the silly bits of comfort and the familiar imperfections, that make her mine. My joy. My City.
...the same bits of chayer bhar still go into my mouth, with the hot, over-sweetened tea and the warm, corrosive smoke of regular-sized cigarettes; beside the same doorsteps by the Academy canteen; where two souls can only sit together if they are in love, or one has to stand.
3 comments:
Kolkata mon amour... I just can't have enough of the city. As you so aptly put it, the city isn't without its flaws. But then who or what is? Yet I wonder how many cities can claim to have such a distinctive character or as unique a flavour.
And as your comparing the city with your ex-girlfriend, now that's something I never expected :)
Expect the unexpected!*Brutally plagiarized from somewhere-I-don't-remember :P*
why ex?
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