I boarded my Ola and sped away,
Into the night that was still young.
On to catch my bus at the bus bay
But I realized, by Chennai, I was still stung.
It’s not the best of cities, it’s not the worst of cities
It’s nor a paradise filled with kitties.
The air is always humid and the sun burns bad
And the rare rain, which pours like it’s mad
And the trashy stretch called the marina beach
These memories gave me a mental screech.
All this doesn’t make it bad nor good
For there are still people who eat very little food;
Sleeping in places where everyone is supposed to walk
Not many care, when about them, you talk.
Of the big cities, conservative, Chennai is.
Patriarchy and misogyny still abound
But, in that fact, some people find bliss
As the mind of youngsters they kill around.
All these factors point to only one logic
That Chennai should be my least favorite city
Yet, my mind refuses that, however tragic
For my hometown, my heart takes pity.
Home is where I feel safe and sound
I guess it is an instinct in our genes
Though throughout the world I go around
I would never forget the Chennai scenes.