Wednesday, February 20, 2013


The dark stretch of land standing lonely and alone, only separated by a thin strip, gleaming like the necklace of a Princess; silence echoing the whoosh of the wind. Secluded except for a couple of late night joggers and a handful of overtime workers, all struggling to maintain a steady pace after a long day’s work, the quiet amplifies every tiny sound put forward.

The streets, mirroring the sheen of the moonlight rest under the sway of the cool night breeze. Dirtied with tire marks cigarette stubs and even broken glass from a mishap, they wait patiently for the arrival of the early morning cleaning crews and for their turn to be bathed and washed, all ready for another day of neglected use. The solitary traffic signal, finally asleep with all three of its eyes shut down stands taut in the gusty breeze, neither moving nor flinching in the cold.

The elongated glass minarets touching the heavens get pleasure from the distant soothing view of the still awake town across the murky water. The metal gates fastened securely with heavy padlocks and guarded tenaciously by stout security guards, double the safety of the buildings, locked from all sides and kept away from the world with the help of shutters.

The benches out in the open are occupied unlike in the day by men dressed in tattered and dirty clothes. Averting the detrimental effects of the wind with the help of skeletal covers and rugs, these broke men sleep on a collection of the day’s newspapers and it’s not the first time we can get to see two competitors sharing space.

The groan of an engine shatters the silence as the vehicle heaves itself into the vicinity, its green finish all dirty and rusted. As it moves on, the first rays of light hit the ground and the sky blooms into a orange-red rose.