Mee Mumbaikar - Part II

I would like to express this post in the form of a short poem about the life of a Mumbaikar who lives in a city that pays 58% of the taxes to the government. Don't we deserve better than what we are managing in?

EVERYDAY A PART OF ME DIES

Everyday a part of me dies
When I hear the cries
Of beggars,homeless and people who are alone
In a city of dreams called Mumbai

Everyday a part of me dies
When I see the mad rush in trains
Where the life is no more than flowing drains
In a city of dreams called Mumbai

Everyday a part of me dies
When I see the traffic jams around me
Reminding me that something went wrong
In a city of dreams called Mumbai

Everyday a part of me dies
When I see hawkers at Gateway of India
Which was once the prestigious way to enter
In a city of dreams called Mumbai

Everyday a part of me dies
When I see the plastic bags on the beaches
Where did all the sense of people get lost?
In a city of dreams called Mumbai

Everyday a part of me dies
When I see the politician hoardings on my way
Reminding me of all the work they never did
In a city of dreams called Mumbai

Everyday a part of me dies
When I see people still differentiating
A Maharashtrian from none
In a city of dreams called Mumbai

Everyday a part of me has died
Some days the heart just cried
When I let my senses sense what's going around
In a city of dreams called Mumbai

Never did I fall in love with any other city
That's because this was the only city of opportunity
But now its time to act true, act fast
So this city of dreams stays to last!!

Gagan Gupta