Shoot it if it rhymes

Smells of a City*

I smell boiled beans
when the metro ignites
a dark monsoon sky.

I smell boiled beans
when the gay man from Bombay
proudly struts down
the stairs of our town hall.

I smell boiled beans
when Jack Fraser from Nebraska
gets his i-phone fixed
by Hanumanthappa from Chamrajpet
in real time.

I smell boiled beans
when fresh, chirpy tweets
emerge from the bard's nest
Tuesday after Tuesday.

I smell boiled beans
every time I eat a 'Congress Bun'.

I smell boiled beans
when the smiling ajji's** warm blood
spills on the bumper
of a drunken IT kid's brand-new Honda City.

I smell boiled beans
when the mood in the Assembly
shifts from elections to erections.

I smell boiled beans
when the eunuch bites the pillow in agony, again -
the sixth time in one night.

I smell boiled beans
when Thomas Chettan boils beans for breakfast
on a Sunday at Koshy's.

* Based on an old story, Bangalore is often called 'The Town of Boiled Beans'.
** Ajji means grandmother in Kannada.