The following poem was composed on a Turkish Airways return flight from Paris to Mumbai, is based on my impressions of the European cities I had explored:
Hunting for a shelter cozy and tight.
Seems like an elusive seductress exuding ghostly aura,
As I gasp in awe, at the splendour of Praha (Prague).
Of gondolas, canals, frolic and fun.
Feels so warm and nice,
In this timeless city of Venice.
Running seamlessly like a fine tuned machine.
Crown of Bavaria with BMW its jewel,
Where time is god and punctuality practised as religion,
So perfect, clean and green, that am in love with Muenchen.
Harbour bellowing with ship horns,
Red light district oozing in exuberance with booze flowing on its streets.
Beguiling and teasing,
Bicycling paradise and fun Mecca.
So tolerant, cosmopolitan and liberal,
That night ambience feels surreal while biking in Amsterdam.
With fancy cars plying its streets and splendid mansions dotting skyline,
Sitting on piles of riches and so expensive that I deride,
Thank God, it doesn’t cost to breathe in Zurich!
With the colosseum as its icon of indulgence,
That had taken away its upright prudence.
History drips in the city of Rome.
Paradise of music and museums,
An art lover’s manna,
This is enchanting Vienna.
Its Pizzas delicious, mouth watering,
And glancing at it from the top of the fuming Mount Vesuvius is enthralling.
With the ruins of Pompeii beside,
For Naples, my heart starts praying,
To save it from the Mount’s furor and might.
Has gotten better by getting rid of its dreary past relating to Hitler,
Democracy all pervasive with people so helping and friendly,
That one wonders this was once world war epicenter.
Change is what Berlin means.
Emerging out of communist past while thriving in the modern present.
Landscape that is mesmerizing and riveting,
A city so welcoming and caring.
That it feels like home in Budapest.
Pride of France and cradle of the renaissance.
Victim of its own success, fast losing its sheen,
With illegal immigration on the rise.
Eiffel tower standing tall and watching it all in stoic silence,
while Gustavo Eiffel is shedding tear and turning in his grave.
As I roam around in Paris…