Mumbai1

They tell me I should hate Mumbai.
23 million people in a hurry,
honking horns, wasted lives,
dirt smog noise, unrest unease,

Caviar and swordfish,
children dying on the streets.

It is torturous and tragic,
Excess joy and excess pain,
Like the mystical magician
She’s the master of extremes.

The world tells me I should hate Mumbai,

And yet I feel something beautiful
because now I know that amidst the squalor,
and amidst the pain, exist people
Who will let you into their heart
When you turn up at their door,
And in the middle of poverty,
Are people with dreams,
Are women of strength,
Are families with hope.

Do not tell me to look into this world
And see only darkness.