A bunch of paper flowers. A light blue vase. And few fresh leaves. Surrealism with a bit of euphemism. I wonder what happens when rain drizzles over this city, so perfect and blemished by random Graffiti - an art that survives and enigmatically covers these grotesque Victorian structures. Autumn seems to have invaded and evaded long time back. The time seems to tick away on this frame of my mind. They say - When it snows, the city has a charm of its own. White blankets over these beautiful structures would seem like quilt laden with dreams of the world that I had dreamt of. Pretty unseen nostalgia.
As I write this, my home is submerged in water. As I tuck myself in this security blanket of optimism, somewhere some child would be tucked into a plastic sheet - his blanket of security, with his mind filled with ambiguity of next meal. Sometimes - we as humans fail. We fail to be humans. Evolution - they say. The survival of fittest - Darwin said.
Next time, when you buy a new mattress - do not throw away the plastic sheet that wraps it. It might be someone's blanket.
Such is humane. Such is a human.
4 reactions:
rupee, confession - i haven't read ne of ur posts before...
But i luv this one... specially the was u ended it... Luv it baby...
nicely written..
Very moving and poignant … loved the write-up.
Came here via Tejas’ blog. Went through many of your older posts…you write very well, but most importantly you think not as many do. And, of course you share with your readers some very priceless stuff (referring to "Everything We Do" by Peter Meinke – some killer lines there.)
Loved your blog, it is very thought provoking…will have to visit often from now on.
Regards,
Krishna
Thanks a lot Krishna. I am glad you loved it..
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