"gujarati" poems
Mumbai is rich, Mumbai is poor.
Mumbai is fast, Mumbai is slower.
Little bit sweet, and little bit sour,
Sometimes it’s hot but not too more….
Mornings are energetic and evenings are electric.
Noons are lazy but Nights are crazy
And any one you ask he always say “M busy”
Dude, life in Mumbai is not so easy
There is lot of Masti with little bit of Maska
Welcome to the city that can’t live, without Bollywood Chaska
From cooker whistles to the traffic jam horns,
From steaming tea kettles to breaking nut-betels
From telephone rings and doorbell brings.
There are people connecting through Blackberry pings
Where there’s little time to spare for kids
People here spend their lives on bids
Here you actually pay your travel fare by meter
But milkman mixing water is not a cheater!
Sev puri and bhel puri are all Mumbai chaat
Relishing it with spicy chutney is no easy art
From pop-corn to ice-cream, all sold on cart
Mumbai o Mumbai, you’re always close to my heart
Where local trains usually run on time
And violently rushing for a seat is not a crime
Here 3 PM for lunch and 12 AM to dine
People face hardships, but still say “it’s fine”
From Mt Mary in Bandra to Mumba Devi in Town
And ISKCON in Juhu to Haji Ali in Mumbai’s Crown
Faith runs deep as the Arabian Sea
But people don’t hesitate to pay early darshan fee.
Marathi, Punjabi, Gujarati and Bengali
Everyone forgather celebrate Id and Diwali
Holi is colourful and Christmas is cheerful
Spend some time here and your life will be un-forgetful
Billionaire to baggers, all found in this city
Be careful dude, this place is a bit witty.
Overall this dream-world is huge but pretty
Mumbai o Mumbai you’re wonderful city.
Feb 3, 2016
Feb 3, 2016 at 1:15 AM UTC
I am the queen of being forgetful,
My nieces and grand niece follow
me,
It is in the genes.
I neither have dementia nor Alzheimer,
It's just my way.
Too much goes in my mind,
Creating pages of happenings,
In Gujarati they call me Sunji (forgetful).
My husband would boil tea or milk for me,
Otherwise,both would spill over,
The utensil burnt.
I learned how to drive a car,
Unfortunately,had to give up,
I would nearly forget to switch off the ignition key.
I would certainly forget to give messages,
Or attend invited occasions if not reminded.
Uncannily, I would never forget if I had hurt someone,
Someone owed me money,
My own personal work.
Everybody tried to rectify me,
But,to no avail,
I am what I am,
And they let it be.
Aug 4, 2018
Aug 4, 2018 at 8:05 AM UTC
Dadi in Gujarati means grandmother,
Father''s mother
And daddy is father pronounced the same.
When my granddaughter was four she refused to call me Dadi,
Insisting her daddy was my son.
Tears swelled in her eyes,
So I pacified her,
I told her I was her daddy's mother so she could call me Dadima.
So I am Dadima to my son's children,
And Nanima to my daughter's children.
21/1/2021
Jan 21, 2021
Jan 21, 2021 at 8:57 AM UTC