A Poem on Bombay, from Adil Jussawalla

Sea Breeze, Bombay

Partition's people stitched
Shrouds from a flag, gentlemen scissored Sindh.
An opened people, fraying across the cut
country re-knotted themselves on this island.

Surrogate city of banks,
Brokering and bays, refugees' harbour and port,
Gatherer of ends whose brick beginnings work
Loose like a skin, spotting the coast,

Restore us to fire. New refugees,
Wearing blood-red wool in the worst heat,
come from Tibet, scanning the sea from the north,
Dazed, holes in their cracked feet.

Restore us to fire. Still,
Communities tear and re-form; and still, a breeze,
Cooling our garrulous evenings, investigates nothing,
Ruffles no tempers, uncovers no root,

And settles no one adrift of the mainland's histories.

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This reminds me of another prose,this time in Hindi;

मुम्बई शहर मे बस एक गम है...हर घर मे एक कमरा कम है...