The trees in Bangalore,

show no respect,

for rules of urban

development.

With the resolution

of centuries,

they grow through

tar, brick and concrete.


The men and women,

on their daily commute,

in Bangalore,

learn to drive,

around the trees.


My love for you,

grows in me,

like trees grow,

in the city of Bangalore.

Or maybe I am wrong,

and the city grows around them.


I am still learning to drive,

like the men and women of Bangalore.