About the place where I grew up - Delhi

I want to write about you.
Put your layers in words.
I need a place to start.
Something for the middle
And the end too is unclear.
But still
I want to write about you.
The way you dance
Under dim lights
Of foggy nights.
The way you cruise
On hot summer afternoons.
The way you hurt
The darkness of your dirt
Your alleys and corners
The open spaces hiding secrets.
I want to expose you
And your every single scar.
You are trapped aren’t you?
In the mindset of the migrants?
You are trapped in myths
And stereotypes built over years.
Your daughters feel trapped too.
Words and rules trap them
The wandering stares
And nimble hands violating
Their exposed bodies, trap them.
They will run one day.
But you already know that,
Don’t you?
Your daughters will leave,
One by one.
But wherever they go
They will always be looking
Over their shoulders.
Scared and submissive.
You didn’t prepare them
You forgot to teach them
How to live, how to grow.
I want to write about
Your failed role as a father.
I want to write about how
Loving you is natural,
But hating you is natural too.