Every rickshaw ride

Is a compromise.

My pocket slims down

With every note

I carelessly dish out

To get across the city.

Like a nail varnished in enamel

The bridge glistens its way ahead

Absorbing heat from wheels

Quenching an aching skin of tar

Silencing some stubborn soot.

There is noise revolting for silence

And chaos screaming for order.

Even the everyday grind

Is music to my careful ears.

When every stretch

Is a favourite one,

It is just me and the roads

Drenched in the midsummer rains.