Its all about riding along....

lets start from the metro station..
Just as I come out of the airconditioned/claustrophobic underground station,a whiff of fresh air greets me.Then as I take a turn and head towards my college,the first thing that catches my eye is the junk ornaments stall on the left side.The tiny trinkets,the plastic hairbands,the colourfull bangles...they all take my breath away...uplifting my already soaring spirits.


I am high on life.
The simplest of things make me happy.

Like grabbimg a window seat in a bus,and riding through the streets of Calcutta during the monsoons.With all the mud,filth,puddles,drenched umbrellas that poke you in the eye,disgruntled old men who keep complaining about the rains,giggling schoolgirls with ribbons in their ponytails,sweaty kurtas,scruffy conductors who give you change at the end of it all,the middle aged women who sqash you to death with their protruding tummies,the drunk driver who gives you the jolt of your life as the bus lurches to a stop.Its a joyride.

There must be something wrong with me.Even as I pass by the eateries in Park street,(eyeing the food and the food consumers alike with only a mild pang of envy)I feel happy.I know one day I will be able to afford lunch at breakfast in flury's and lunch at Peter Cat.

As I walk towards my collge,I cross the cellphone recharge shop."They should mention they give out cell phone recharge...what if someone wants to recharge his/her happiness in life?"

I walk past the newspaper stall.A man brushes past me,in a hurry.He collides with the newspaper stand.Without so much so as even a backward glance,the man keeps walking.I look at the old man,the owner of the newspaper stall.He bends down and starts picking up the scattered newspapers.He picks up the means of his daily bread.