From the time I begin my journey to the time I arrive at the station,
my eyes and my mind both conscious of what they confront,
a sight of a little chubby kid playing a video game, a girl silently giggling over a guy who is trying to put his luggage at the cabin on the top and gets his head knocked by a sudden bumpy ride, or an old man trying to help his wife, carefully holding the water bottle while she pops in her medicines.
But why do I come to Mumbai ???
As I get down at the station, I see blue, black, yellow, red, white cabs bombarding forward with their heavy machines on a black concrete road, which is no more black but colorful, full of colorful cabs, only if you look from above or like millions of sperm rushing forward and fighting to make their way up to a women's uterus and trying to be the first one to attach with the egg. But these colorful cabs are not women and never had sex, they can never be loved but can be kissed, they can never be felt but can be touched, they can help me reach my destination but cannot decide my destination...
But why do I come to Mumbai???
As I walk inside the house, warmly greeted by the common jargon of Hi's and Hello's; someone, from the other room swaggers with twinkle in his eyes and dimple on his cheeks; someone, who scratches his head and funnily makes me believe that, may be, I scratch my head at the same time as he does... Someone, who if destined to be mine will be mine; someone, who if destined to have me will have me...
So, the guy with twinkle in his eyes and dimple on his cheeks, don't you forget the reason, I come to Mumbai for!!!
my eyes and my mind both conscious of what they confront,
a sight of a little chubby kid playing a video game, a girl silently giggling over a guy who is trying to put his luggage at the cabin on the top and gets his head knocked by a sudden bumpy ride, or an old man trying to help his wife, carefully holding the water bottle while she pops in her medicines.
But why do I come to Mumbai ???
As I get down at the station, I see blue, black, yellow, red, white cabs bombarding forward with their heavy machines on a black concrete road, which is no more black but colorful, full of colorful cabs, only if you look from above or like millions of sperm rushing forward and fighting to make their way up to a women's uterus and trying to be the first one to attach with the egg. But these colorful cabs are not women and never had sex, they can never be loved but can be kissed, they can never be felt but can be touched, they can help me reach my destination but cannot decide my destination...
But why do I come to Mumbai???
As I walk inside the house, warmly greeted by the common jargon of Hi's and Hello's; someone, from the other room swaggers with twinkle in his eyes and dimple on his cheeks; someone, who scratches his head and funnily makes me believe that, may be, I scratch my head at the same time as he does... Someone, who if destined to be mine will be mine; someone, who if destined to have me will have me...
So, the guy with twinkle in his eyes and dimple on his cheeks, don't you forget the reason, I come to Mumbai for!!!
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