It’s all warm inside the big micro. I don’t know how but I know it’s going to take me home. Ah! such a lovely weather it is, only if it weren’t for the crowd inside the bus. Look at how many people are being cramped in, one stop after another. Thankfully I’m safe here, cozy.…
Read MoreI told myself it’s okay to want to go all by yourself, to take little chances to discover pieces of you scattered here and there, to have people stare when you’re sitting there waiting for no one in particular to appear. I want to eat a samosa, that deep fried crunchy samosa I’ve always loved,…
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These lines make me nervous. I love lines otherwise, lines that run through pages, lines that unmask people, lines that make up stories, lines that can be spoken, lines with words on them. But this is a queue. And I’m not fond of lines that are made up of people. It makes me anxious, like…
Read MoreWhat is the feeling between sadness and happiness called? On a balancing scale when you stand right in between of the two, not moving an inch to the left or the right. It’s like an empty feeling of odd satisfaction creeping inside, and you place yourself at the center of the cosmos, in full control. I get…
Read MoreThere’s a shoemaker by the road, who sits under a big purple umbrella. I take my broken shoes to him, when I want to prolong their life. His set of tools captures my mind. They are his arsenals. He pastes thin layers of shoe shaped tyres over the outer sole of my shoe. His sturdy…
Read MoreThe dust has become an indispensable ingredient of the road. I hear it is more horrifying on the other edge. A scarf over the head, a big mask covering half the face will do for now. It has worked for years down this route. I was far ahead of the rush hour, so there was…
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