When I'd spent it for me for the last.

My rusted duct and somnolent eye

Met a stature which wasn't so fresh

Lost and fragile having dry lips

It had no cover for the feet

It had no cover for its weeps

It holds my arm with scanty grip

Yet so vulnerable to writhe

The innocent face with weary eyes

Wore tons of kindness without any lies

It stared at me with those drowsy eyes

But I still hesitated facing it a while

Still I couldn't recognize the stature

Myriad guesses, yet not so sure

Thought of people who were my friends?

Thought of relatives, love, yet no end!

Couldn't identify those drowsy eyes

I suspected my smart and witty mind

With list of names whirling inside,

Suddenly I felt like I left a name behind

The pieces began falling into places

Like the crosswords gleaming with keys

I got the hold on my own hand,

It kept shivering throughout

I scrolled my sight to the stature’s eyes,

And faced it strong though with fright.

The painful strokes hit me hard,

writhing with pain, ripped apart.

I searched in the time flying by in the past

When I’d spent it for me for the last

No answers, ignored myself

Not enough dauntless to face myself

I hit the ground hard wondering,

What all mirror had taught me forlornly.

On the busy streets of Mumbai.

        "Hey, something of you fell down" I heard someone say behind, approaching me. I turned around to see my mobile cover lying on the railway platform. I wondered how it fell on the ground. My gaze met the lady who had informed me about it. 
    'Thank you aunty, it's too kind of you' 
   I exposed my gratitude as politely as I could. These escorts on the busy streets of Mumbai are very mundane. One would be informed by a car driver that we haven't locked the car door properly, or the bike stand is still down. People care for each other on these busy streets.
       People get out from their homes early morning with a mind full of stress, responsibilities, and also frustration  But these busy minds are also full of love and compassion. They dream, day dream and have a vision full of peace and serenity. The massive potholes in rainy season, heavy traffic jams, inordinate crowds in Mumbai locals are worth to be frustrated with. Yet, the common citizens ignore these hindrances and look forward to their day's agendas. 
     Mumbai is a multilingual, multi-religious city. People from all over India migrate here in search of better employments. Mumbai is the ultimate destination for the people seeking glamour and finance as Bollywood, India's main film industry works here. This makes Mumbai the most populated city in India. Over the years, the overcrowding on each street has been a matter of concern for every Mumbaikar. The heavy trains early morning don't have a single void to occupy extra commuters. People climb on train tops, they stand in the spaces between two train cars or they hang in the trains risking their lives. Everyday, there are approximately 10 deaths on the tracks.
      In Mumbai, time is more valuable than life. That is why, it is called the busiest city in India. Here, time waits for none. It is also the prime focus for the terrorists who aim for India. 11/7, 26/11 are great examples of it. Mumbai is battered, assailed, and weakened. Yet, the city dares to stand back with the will and power of citizens as, the people here are no inhumane.
       They help each other and assist fellow citizens in crucial times.Then the assistance can be of any form. Be it just telling about fallen cover!
     With the thoughts about my home city whirling around my mind, a beam occurred on my face. And when I focused back on the railway station, I saw the overcrowded Kalyan local halted on the platform. With efforts, I somehow boarded it. It brought another beam on my face!