Wind, water & whatever

It's wild on the sea link. The rain is heavy but not heavy enough and the wind throws it around like a million threads hanging from a bare tree. Visibility is a joke, funnier when you see a broken down cab every 20 metres or so. Compressed Natural Gas is a great alternative fuel but an engine that runs on it cannot handle the fury of the very nature it attempts to save. 

Cars crawl, their distress lights blinking as if they are eyes blinking away the wind and water so they can see better. On the edge of the bridge water has collected and cars that are tempted by the emptiness of that stretch are showered in waves of their own making. 

There is more water, collected just before the cabins that collect toll for the wildest water ride you can take this side of your favourite water park. I am tempted to ask the toll man, 'Hey! Didn't the guys who built this bridge know that it rains in this city?' 

But I don't because my voice will get swept away in the wind and rain, like the voice of every common man who is foolish enough to expect an answer from our elected representatives. 


  1. It's not that they don't know it rains in this city. It's that they just don't care.

    - Sandesh Parkar

  2. In Delhi it's trickling. The lake at the Sultanpur Bird Sanctuary has dried up. The dried up lake bed looks like a morgue.

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  4. True, Sandesh, true.

    But it always trickles in Delhi, Purba.
    To complete the morgue effect there is a picture of a dead neel gai on the lake bed in today's Times.
    The Yamuna flows through a desert, literally also.


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