He still calls himself by this name,
With no evidence of it remains,
Says no remnants of it all,
But just a patch of old fort wall,
Disguised amongst his new face,
‘Fort’ Kochi is his name.
He grows and changes still,
Off the limits and boundaries till,
Its art or its history his mind confuses,
Ringing noise of the ship’s honks deepens,
Rust in air,
Rust everywhere,
Describes his history,
And his changed machinery,
He demands that his identity are the nets,
It was the Chinese who made their bets,
Now he assumes they are just ornaments,
Without any use the fishermen rests,
Look! They entered from there,
Thousands lured by my care,
“Trade and port I provided”,
Still in awe people surrounded,
Some say it’s his beauty,
Some say spice,
Some say it was the trade ties,
Today he stands with open arms,
With backwaters and sea at large,
Dorking all the massive ships,
His bother Willington (island) chips,
Backdrops to all the past,
Yet a character of the cast.
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