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Ode To Calcutta

Ode To Calcutta

1 min 343 1 min 343

Sweet old lady roams the streets

Tram bells strung on ropes ringing

Waltzing along parallel tracks

At her own leisurely pace

Unmindful of shouts and criticism

Attitude of laissez-faire policy

Fiercely guards her women

Didi, boudi, mashi, to men

'Don't ever mess' with her, 

Clearly flashes her message 

On billboards across the city 


She exudes warmth always

Hospitable to whosoever visits

And once on her lap have rested

Hard to leave without tinge of 

Sadness that quietly creeps in

She has a softness unparalleled 

She's out and out traditional 

Yet amenable to modern ways 

British India's first capital 

Once the Empire's prized glory


She loves food and loves to feed

Her sweets none can resist

Spongy rosogollas floating 

In sugary syrup, any number

One can comfortably tuck in

Anytime before or after meals

A treat every guest receives

Along with cha and samosas

And If you stay over for lunch

Fresh fish will feature on menu list.


She never flaunts her riches

Humility is her second name

Raised two Nobel laureates 

And few who nearly missed it

And if you think her wheels 

Of progress have been stilled

No..it's moving, moving unseen

She will rise and metamorphose

And claim her once lost glory

So if cynics say otherwise, 

Listen, don't argue, not worth it!

Those who flew out of warm nest

Know and pine for her constantly



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