In the city,
On every street
There are thousands of heads
It’s a city that despises walkers
Their paths are blocked.
But each morning
Thousands of walkers
Tread the streets.
Each head in the city
Carries its cities
A morose man,
Walks with me on one such street.
That is not the only street I walk.
I change lanes and I cross streets.
And, I don’t mind who walks with me
As long as the cities in their heads
Do not spill on to the street.
(c) Jatin Gandhi, May 3, 2007