Chennai

I love that sun struck city
Of meter-less rickshaws and crowded trains
Of dosa and sambar and idils'
In scorching summers and flooding rains

I love her morning filtered coffee
With the sun rising on her sandy beaches
And her men in white lungis'
And the language of their speeches

I love her forts and streets and temples
Her children from adoption and birth
Their unity to some seem mythical
As they witnessed hell on earth