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.

Like what you read? Give Rathnavel Pandian a round of applause.

From a quick cheer to a standing ovation, clap to show how much you enjoyed this story.