What will happen
one day, when we run out
of road islands
and politicians
who seem to be dying
now of accidental diseases,
and cine stars
who leave behind
unbalanced progeny
run out of options
as far as making people
remember their names
for traffic jam posterity.

So no more
NTR Gardens and KBR Parks,
Rajiv Chowk
and Indira Gandhi Terminals.

What do we have in store?

Nameless, faceless
islands, road medians, dividers.
Street Corners
struggling to find
a memorable identity.

Maybe then, the Municipal Commissioner
out of sheer exasperation
will come up with a speed breaker
of an idea, or a pot hole
of a brainwave.

Then the directions to my house
will be simple.
Come from Punjagutta,
up towards Banjara Hills (if it’s still called that).
Pass Nagarjuna Circle
(you’ll be amazed to know how many
people think it is named thus after
a cine star who has a dog lover
for a wife, and a few bitches
for enroute entertainment).

Then slow down for the
Hanumantha Reddy speedbreaker,
bump across the Chinna Yadav pot hole,
grind over the Pedda Yadav road disturbance,
turn right at the Keshava Rao bulge
and groan up the Srinivasan swell,
take a deep breath at the Vellanki road break,
turn right at the Chenna Reddy water log,
and ask anyone for the Marurs.

If someone were to point to a small ditch,
just say hello to my late parents,and look around…

You may hear a dog barking
that he too needs a patch on the road
where his territorial rights
transcend early morning transgressions
and get etched into eternity…by name.

That’s my house…

So simple to find it na?