Quirkily Chaotic

To the world, it is a

City of crowds, teeming with hustle and bustle
In every nook, alley, corner and vicinity
There is frenzy as a pulsating herd of humanity
Swarms onto its streets to begin its daily jostle

In organized chaos, as commuters in confusion
Forge – through anarchy – order of some sort
Shouting rules that have thus carefully wrought
The city’s growth amidst a populous profusion

Of an offspring whose demands are hard to meet.

City of sound, arena to a concert of cacophony
Whose orchestra has managed just the right measure
So that its sundry ensemble can derive much pleasure
In the melodious jingle of diverse disharmony

As they sway to the tunes that daily resonate
From vehicles, humans and assorted creatures
Whose spectacular show quite often features
An echo that does each second reverberate

From an offspring whose music is hard to beat.

Personally, it is a

City of memories, embellished by decades three
A journey back into the past each time I visit
For I recall how, on the train to ‘Madras’ I’d sit
Excited, for in Moore Market, I could wander in glee

A son of the soil, with dreams of places far and wide.

City of camaraderie, of the many friendships made
Of the many lessons learnt, in school and in college
An education that has helped me across many a bridge
Since those days, with friends, on St Bede’s fields I played

A son of the soil, who learnt to take things in his stride.

City of youth, of its many, crowded buses and trains
On which, in carefree abandon, did teenage risk
A life full of energy, a life at pace that was brisk
A life whose only proof is that tiny scar that remains

On a son of the soil, who did with much danger ride

In this city that does on the Bay of Bengal lie
A city of history, the quirkily chaotic City of Chennai