Everyday, I have to walk through the same path. It is a long walk, and I have no option but to take it everyday. As I walk down the footpath, I see the modern cubular facade with red-stone marbles and walls higher than the number
I was riding my gear-less two wheeler for last 25 km on the heckling streets and highways of Delhi, when I saw a man lying unconscious, near the guardrail dividing the two contiguous sides of opposite flowing traffic. The haggard man with a frowzy appearance was babbling some spittle out when my sight wandered to a small puddle of crimson blood adjacent to his skull. The blood had incarnadined the asphalt road.
A day when I was perhaps only 5 years old. I was ready to go to school, shining bright in my white shirt and shorts with a tie having oblique, red and white parallel lines, and a belt of the same shade. I had put