So, this is Pune…

The banyan trees lean wide, their roots whispering into sidewalks,
while gulmohur petals scatter like forgotten notes of a poet’s song.

In quiet cafés, pens scratch, keyboards match
voices rise in debate
writers, painters, dreamers
stitching together the city’s pulse.

Once, it was a place of rest,
retired afternoons, drifting in gardens,
the hush of old bungalows
where time slowed to a sigh.

Now, glass towers gleam,
servers hum with invisible traffic,
and code flows like rivers
through the hands of young minds.

Still, the hills remain
Sinhagad watching, Parvati breathing,
The monsoon greens every edge.

So this is Pune-
a city that remembers silence,
yet dances with speed,
where heritage and future walk hand in hand,
like two friends sharing the same road.


Poetics – So, this is

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