Sunday, 23 April 2017


 Walking alone opens up to an aura of smells, sights, people who or which struck some resemblance with the past already registered in your mind and that keeps you lost in the musings that could either be visible in the form of your lips stretching ear to ear in a broad grin or a frown on your forehead. Your mind becomes a curry pot of spicy thoughts. Sometimes you have to slacken your pace as you are confronted with walkers who seems to be birds of same feather flocking together, all moving in a straight horizontal line like partridges leaving you little space , making you glance sideways which way to go and then you have no option to confront this congested traffic of partridges except to step down on the pavement. Sometimes you squeeze your body like a strand of thread through that tiny hole in the needle head to slide out between two or more than two lost friends, meeting after a long gap of time.
Now that there is little time for walking, some of the past musings during the morning walks in the Sanjay Gandhi Botanical Park bring only nostalgia and wistfulness...

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