I carry the tag of an Urbanite,
Thrown from village lane to slum site,
As bonded kid of crude contractors,
Leaving huts behind to pick up blades.

I thrive in core concrete jungles,
A haven of real estate brazen babus,
Whose kith and kin addicted to 5 M’s,
Motors, Mobiles, Movies, Music and Macs.

Engrossed in exchanging SMS and MMS,
Fond of killing time at staring wall posters,
Shifting locations to shady corners,
Minor babus unduly indulge in curses.

It is a regular sight to witness brawl,
That rages into duels and riots at bar,
Upon which Men in uniform crawl,
Chasing Youth into crowed bazaars.

— G.C. Rao
24 -10- 2006