Friday, July 28, 2017

When the dust settles down in the western front
And the evening slowly descends
I think I love to bask
In the city's antiquity,
You have for ages lured people
Of all age and caste
To come to you,
And to be enthralled by your colored things,
Little trinkets and cholis,
And the sandstone red
Architectural marvels
Dating back to eleventh century
All telling your richness , your beauty ,

Now when I walk down your streets
How I am taken back to your aweinspiring wonders,

Right through your bosom
How runs the river
And how your eastern side with Pols and bazaars appears
As the flagbearer of your hoary tradition,
While on your west
Glitz and glamour shine
And highways run to meet the horizon.

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