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Dark blues of the night

Every night the road to home is a dull smoky path where breath is stifled by madness of pedestrians and their abrupt crossings in a zig zag pattern. One such night turned out to be an alarm in disguise. It was novelty of the experience.Late in the evening these pretty young girls were dressed to live.Thin bodies covered in modern attire. Some in skirts, some in salwar and few in pants.Lips were painted. How different were they from all of us? I dress to be presentable. In order to be an achiever I strive hard till late hours of the day. I get back home to see them lined up on the small uphill of life. I can't talk. I just look. When they are talking to men who get off from their bikes and negotiate on a price. Those wide eyed faces fleeing at the sound of a siren.I tell a friend that I've never seen something like this before in my life. I was told they are transvestites. Not all. I now pass them, look at them, think of them. Maybe someday I'll talk to them.Depends.

Comments

Anonymous said…
ur presentation of the "Dark blues of the night" is excellent. ur presentation was as if i was taken a ride in the night to see the things around the world with look and feel the things that come across the context u have written.
u have informed "depends" the last word of the artical. as the artical taken you into further intaractions. if so mail or message the forthcoming articals that u publish.it takes into the deep/depth of the world round us.

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