Prasana wrote this response, rich with the culture and locality he comes from, I respect the pride he has for his homeland.
I have grown.
My brain inflating beyond faces past,
Dwarfing black bodies of minds,
Maruti swallows the Sun.
Millions of lives go down my throat,
Millions more I create-
Fruits of my futile fertility,
Tasting of familiarity, like
A gifted shirt I grew out of, but never threw away.
Stretching my hands to the skies,
I refuse to uproot my feet
Sunk in the sacred soil of Malegaon.