World is an interesting Place ,
 I see it ;
with a window I call Mind ,
 And its open all the time.

 I see roads, with bed sheets of fresh rain water;
 Reflecting the near gray clouds ,
The mountains by busy roads,

And many electric towers Power stations and slums,
 Where street dogs compete with street men,
To survive in daily den.

 I see crowds, unending head counts,
Moving like silent army ,
I see pondering old men,
Sitting by the shade; in pink shirts,
 With their hands tucked under their cheeks,
 And eyes closed, as if eternally.

 I see babies crawling near bus stops,
Tied to a soft wooden pole;
 By their mothers.

I see endlessness of endlessness
 And buses, rikshaws, too much of foul air
 And I see love too;
the young Girl I liked Kissing another man.
I see laughing faces by rectangular buildings,
 Made up of glass and lot of new age jazz