Images of a Day

A big white car comes out of a building gate onto a narrow road, turning right. A rickshaw chooses to be out of lane, in the middle of the road. The car doesn’t get enough space to manoeuvre. The rickshaw adamantly stops where it is, eventually relenting and moving back a few inches.

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Disarrayed venetian blinds throw an interesting pattern of sunlight on his wall. The glass is unclean and blurs the sight out on the street, Text on the hoarding is not readable.

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Something that was meant to remain up there as a reminder for tomorrow has been erased by someone. It got erased even though it wasn’t supposed to be.

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All words in the notebook are perfectly spelled and written. Not a single word however, offers any meaning. On white paper, they are well laid out and perfectly indented. There is empty space to their right. Its voice is hoarse, it yearns for ink; even a drop will do.

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Pixels of funny dialogues light up the screen all through the night. The humour evaporates somewhere in the distance between transmission and reception.

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