Sky the barest of blue, 
delicate as a robin’s egg, 
absorbing dust like wind with prayers,
aandhi then barish,
my birth city. 

Postcard hues, the vibrancy 
of mountains, waterfalls, and tides
containing a cascading crush of fine gems:
emeralds, opals, aquamarines,
my mother’s scenes.

Heat tangible as a bruise,
spike of melanin and white creams,
harried and hustling, the bustling furnace
of clocktower bazaars,
my breath held.

Venue of trailing flowers,
scarlet dress and confetti bursts,
the end being a salam and its response,
lotus caught in between,
my centrum.

Capital, halves, station, liberation,
and city, scenes, breath, centrum,
and Asalaam alaikum,
and Asalaam alaikum