The World where we Live

This is the time of afternoon. And also Friday. Free tomorrow. Saturday the best day. This is a beautiful day. No raining, no cloud in the sky, no scratching heat, no chilling cold. Temperature is moderate. Flowers are blooming and dragonflies are zooming. Girls on the street are beautiful in their tight jeans and boys look curious about the hidden paradise of the girls. A lame is smiling to the god for giving him a leg and a blind is cheering for his hearing. People on the street are getting everything right for their conscience. 

There were some cute faces in the morning with the hope of bright future. I taught them some stale stuff and forced them to grasp it. They were happy. I was happy. It was a situation. Many of them were 16. All having a dream to be a great person in the future. But they didn't know what to be a great is like. They were like confusing armies in the darkness. No doubt, I got the position to show them light, but the torch is outdated. It is my duty to smile. I get something to make a living in exchange of my smile.

An old man is walking along the edge of the road. A semi necked girl is crossing the road. Buses are farting and honking to show their presence on the street. A housewife, carrying a sack, heading towards the vegetable market. A boy about the age of 7 is carrying a heavy bag on his back. A dog is having sex with another dog. A cat mews.

A couple is walking along the road. Wife has a bulging belly. She might be carrying a future citizen. They are pacing faster. She seems a bit shy with her swelled stomach. An ice-cream man making a sound poo..poo...poo.childreni are pulling the petticoat of their mothers. A featherless bird is hopping in circle. A mice slides in to the bush. A woman in her red sari makes her pace faster towards the temple. She is carrying a basket with flowers and tikka. A priest appears as pathfinder to the heaven.

On the other side of the corner, there is a girl waiting her boy robbing her toe to the ground. Her fingers are fluttering on the keypad of her mobile. There are lines of sorrow on her faces and cloud on her face. She seems restless and tired. A boy about 17 passes through the girl without throwing his glance to catch her curious eyes. She stretched her arms and sighed. But no sigh of response. The boy puts his arm round the wrist of another pretty girl waiting in another corner of the road. Happy are they. Sad is the first and happy is the latter.

A boy of fifteen, riding on a motorbike flies in the air. A timid cyclist trembles and loses the grip of his handle. A woman drops her vegetable bag on the ground. A traffic police jerks his head. A little boy about five smiles seeing his future days. A leader passes through the cloud joining his both palms and opening his fouling cave to demonstrate how much paan parag he chewed.

I a pure onlooker get puzzled. This is what we call the world. This is the place where we are the architect of our future. Thanks god.