Crowded dark sky over Mumbai.
Scotch burning bones.
Air conditioning cranks double time.
You are out there, pretty and demure.
Out there in the Bombay Night everything looks possible
Wisps of premonsoon white impotence float in the cobalt night.
You see social climbers bone up on fuzzy nothings
And you see glances of the watchers
Tonight as the beat settled, why were you unsure
You are or you aren't, why fiddle with your brain.
As the buzz settles, the aunties separate from the uncles
And the singles weigh their chances.
The missing aren't missed
Reality meets Twilight.
Mobile phones replace conversation
Frolic replaces gossip
There's no panacea for partying
It's what people do.