This would be more around the flora & fauna as observed during the wait.
Few perks of a late night return from office is that you may interface with nature with much less regard to consciousness of social propriety from fellow colleagues.
Night sets in early, shrouding everything in a veil of mystery rendering additional sense of privacy/personal space.
As I walk past the Security reception point of office, a breeze of wind reinforces a sense of freedom(or relief of another day struck down?) - perhaps those black-ironed gates brings to fore that effect in a more pronounced way.
Few minute past those gates is the S1 pick-point. With Spring-Autumn season for Oct, the leaves have turned a pale yellow hue. With the trees lined up in a series, the yellow light of lamp-post sifts through making this color transformation more animated.
However, this leaves-pattern isn't _familiar_ to me. These leaves are more like flakes/chips/wafers condescending gravity. Perched (on top of branches) in all possible direction. Though still orderly, these are thin almost lacking any 'pulse' of life - very veinous.
Amidst all this, thought crosses that somehow this alien county lacks the innate warmth of life & the cold breeze whips that idea further. Ironically, this torrid land still provides for their fauna freedom to behave a certain way & are thus aligned per their wishes(Hindi word: un-mukt). Is it that they aren't burdened with responsibility(Government-hedged?) or societal protocols to be able to express themselves unobstructed?!
This strange land is free, cold, lean(under-nourished), lacks warmth, goes about its natural rhythm oblivious to my presence.
Yet orderly(even the heaps of underlying dry leaves) and prosperous with all signs of healthy growth.
Few perks of a late night return from office is that you may interface with nature with much less regard to consciousness of social propriety from fellow colleagues.
Night sets in early, shrouding everything in a veil of mystery rendering additional sense of privacy/personal space.
As I walk past the Security reception point of office, a breeze of wind reinforces a sense of freedom(or relief of another day struck down?) - perhaps those black-ironed gates brings to fore that effect in a more pronounced way.
Few minute past those gates is the S1 pick-point. With Spring-Autumn season for Oct, the leaves have turned a pale yellow hue. With the trees lined up in a series, the yellow light of lamp-post sifts through making this color transformation more animated.
However, this leaves-pattern isn't _familiar_ to me. These leaves are more like flakes/chips/wafers condescending gravity. Perched (on top of branches) in all possible direction. Though still orderly, these are thin almost lacking any 'pulse' of life - very veinous.
Amidst all this, thought crosses that somehow this alien county lacks the innate warmth of life & the cold breeze whips that idea further. Ironically, this torrid land still provides for their fauna freedom to behave a certain way & are thus aligned per their wishes(Hindi word: un-mukt). Is it that they aren't burdened with responsibility(Government-hedged?) or societal protocols to be able to express themselves unobstructed?!
This strange land is free, cold, lean(under-nourished), lacks warmth, goes about its natural rhythm oblivious to my presence.
Yet orderly(even the heaps of underlying dry leaves) and prosperous with all signs of healthy growth.
No comments:
Post a Comment