Jul 17, 2009

power/cut

I hear birds.

I can't see them, but they're probably on some wet green tree, shaking the rain off their feathers. I hear the strains of a flute-the music of the wind. It feels like something out of a Ray film-Charulata perhaps- but quickly morphs into something very Kannada. I hear a temple bell, some kids squealing and very loud autos on the main road outside. I hear sporadic mouse-clicking and keyboard-tapping, mimicking the drizzle outside.

It's a rainy rainy day.

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