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Writer, Father. Entrepreneur. Bum. Atheist. Recluse. Garhwali. Foodie. Downloader. Drifter. In no particular order.


metro journey, monsoon, spider

Its almost surreal. The metro glides through the city on a nameless august morning. The sky is shrouded in gray clouds and the air is saturated with humidity that fuzzies long range vision. Or maybe it is raining, but I can't tell. The world outside must have noise, but in here it is quiet as a tomb. There are people here, strangers, bound by the  code of civility to maintain silence in public. I look at their faces and I know there are as many worlds as there are people, that each of these strangers hangs delicately like an acrobatic spider at the centre of its own intricately patterned web.

1 comment:

I said...

A beautiful parallel there.