Three and double o and more...

I have learnt this city
In my own ways-
It all started with climbing onto the bus
going to another city
crossing over the river;

It had been a delightful ride
At the terminus colored cookies came in jars at a ridiculous price-
Fifty paise for a handful;

Then there had been serpentine traffic
All through the Strand
it seemed one would take a good day's nap and wake up to another dimension
Still one would be there the same;

The florists at the bazaar appeared pretty busy
early in the morning as the baskets came from faraway places,
Their hues and cries got mingled with the thin air,

Then the big mammoth looking architecture
And the salty breeze from the river
sweeping through the hair
Of the face peering out of the window,

'How long still?'
'Not much ...only forty minutes more...'
That was the standard answer,
And creeping through the mob
We used to move,
One by one landmarks passed by us,
Some Anglican,
Some Gothic,
Some Armenian,
Some Greco-roman,

And a few hours later perhaps
Appeared half known names
on signboards,
Alphanumeric identities of places,

The city had then arrived.

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