Kolkata, I can’t love you

Kolkata, I can’t love you,
It’s not that I haven’t tried but look at you-
You’re weak. You look defeated.
To imagine once you were the jewel of India,
Headquarters of the biggest empire in the world,
They came in with their guns and fleet,
They tried to control you,
To think lords and barons once planned and plotted against you,
To think Netaji once found solace in you,
But what are you now?
Your unruly lanes and old-school avenues,
Scarred with the blood of freedom fighters,
Etched on the stones of your old walls,
Kolkata you’re still mourning.
They took a part of you, with them forever,
Kolkata you couldn’t recover,
You won but you lost your power.

Kolkata, I can’t love you,
…and I’m not sorry.
Kolkata, I can’t love you because I pity you,
You once stood strong, you broke the chain,
Now you’re broken, chained.
Kolkata, you must escape,
You must return to your old charm,
A city with a history of heritage,
A city with a gatha of blood-wars,
Proud and strong, home of the brave.
City of the youth, warm-blooded with rage.
They wrote songs and poems about you,
Tagore paid a tribute…to you
You’ve given birth to artists, scientists, nobel laureates,
Your scars are written in the history of the world,
Kolkata, I want to see you as you were once before,
I try and fail, I just can’t love you anymore.