Living life in the mass lane, Churchgate local fast train.
Travel the western line, commute takes time
Music for the journey, Rap MC’s, verses sublime
Local moves from station to station, as folks get on
and off, to their final destination.
***

Train speeds by track side ghetto projects
And retail establishments, house material objects
Move southside, townside, uptown sights meet the eye,
get off at the last stop, armed cops
walk their beat on the hop

***

Newspaper vendor squats near the subway,
On display, TOI, ET, Mirror and Midday.
Scandals in the by-lines, gossip in the headlines
College kids laugh and chat acting their age, while
Street kids work the cars at the signals for daily wage

***

Up the pace to reach my meeting place, watching the clock,
Shielded from the afternoon sun by towering office blocks.
Meeting done, no sale, pressure mounts, job hangs by the line,
Scramble for closures, call prospects, work tight deadlines.

***
Peak hour brings back the human invasion on the local,
Couples and colleagues and friends talk, get vocal.
first class travellers packed like sardines in a can,
Everyone tries to catch a drift of the ceiling fan.
***
Snake through Andheri traffic in an auto-rick
reach my crib, take a sip, write verses ad lib
Free fall on my bed, stare at the ceiling
Size up my day, gauge what I’m feeling
***
Mumbai the city for hustlers, note rustlers, do-it-any-how bustlers,
Rags to riches, hags to snitches, brags to disses,
Malls to Mauls, Falls to Faults, Balls to Brawls
The city has it all.
***
You are  either riding the wave of success
or living off the pavement,
On your knees pleading,
city seething, got the pockets bleeding,
I’m an out-of-town heathen,
indifference I’m breeding.
The city of dreams,
screams, never asleep, the ambition arena,
Love, Hate, Hope, Apathy, agitation by the Sena.
City on the run always in a hurry,
memories of routine always blurry.
People in a rush, don’t mind the stranger’s brush.
Crowded places, blank faces,
people try to find their way
through empty spaces.
***
Always in a state of extremes, so it seems
truth and lies co-exist, neither reigns supreme.
Whatever the weather, everyone’s feeling the heat,
Rich and poor run the rat race on the same street.
This city can make you cold, blind because its unkind,
If you need to survive here you need a Mumbai state of mind.
***
Dinesh is a mish-mash of Chennai, Bangalore and Mumbai, the cities he has lived in and fallen in love with. Poet, calligrapher, compulsive googler, self-proclaimed dogfather of the strays, ardent sports fan (Arsenal, CSK, Michael Jordan), foodie, anti-pop music curator (Underground & Alternative Hip Hop, Electric Blues & Jazz, Classic), world movies cinephile and classic car enthusiast, this left-hander tries hard to keep it right-brained (pun intended). By profession, Dinesh is a Marketing and Sales professional and a guest columnist for a shopping website.