Her eyes were looking for a corner, where she could hide; a box, where no one could see her, touch her or talk to her; a place, where she'd just be - herself. She just wanted to be a speck of dust, a drop of water and melt into the surroundings...Her mind was on the threshold of losing sanity. Like a nomad, her mind was wandering...
The road looked like a carnival; bright lights offending her delicate eyes. Impatient honking, aggressive engines wrooming out their wrath, autos on the verge of bursting with human overload. The divine smell of jackfruit, a baby sleeping peacefully on a bike, tucked into the secure arms of its mother. A cupid-struck couple engrossed in sweet-talk, fingers intertwined, blissfully oblivious of everything around. Fresh vegetables in a riot of colours, ripe mangoes giving a sneak peek into the gateways of heaven. A pair of twins dressed in identical golden frocks, clutching on to their mother’s fingers. Steam rising from freshly-made phulkas, the aroma, overpowering. Husbands returning to their wives with goodies and surprises bundled in little packets...
Shops with posters screaming of discounts; two kids happily hopping around, their feet generously coated with slush - a gift from the overnight rain. Street dogs socialising; bajjis and bondas on a creaky, old thela selling like hot cakes. Posters and hoardings of politicians posing like Gods. The night sky, in its velvety glory, adorned by diamond-like stars...
Yes, her mind, like a nomad, was wandering, a thousand thoughts flickering like the lights on the road. She was just a ‘looker’ - detached, indifferent, numb, sealed in plastic...Nothing could touch her or bother her. She had found the corner, the box that could shield her from everything. A looker was what she had to be, sans expectations, fears, concerns...and the box, the corner would for hers, or as long as she wanted...
“It’s going to be I, me, myself for a while,” she thought, her mind, despite the gazillion issues it had to focus on, still playing the nomad it was...
Don't they call it zone as well. Sachin describes it when he does his best batting.Though here it seems more like a distress zone..Wld like a second part here as well :)
ReplyDeleteYes, distress zone it is! Point is, one should know when to switch on and off into that mode, or zone, like you'd put it...Thanks a lot for the comment! :)
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