Scribbles post office!

I spent some time walking on shadows of people today…

I looked to the moist tiled floor, even as a cleaner kept pushing water dripping from the AC above into a drain channel. The myriad colors from the white screen behind the live band playing around the corner reflected on the fine crevices of the flooring. The ever changing hues were crisscrossed by dark shadows of passers-by; I too barred a beam or two from reaching the floors.

I looked up then, to the contrasting black skies. Stars, if any, were outshined by their artificial counterparts on the earth below. A stray branch of a tree, green in the light of the halogen bulb shining nearby, somewhat jutted in my view of the dark sky. Swaying (as if) with the music it make a pleasing sight; one of those moments which make one want to have a camera/camera phone handy!

There was a brief silence, quickly torn apart by the strains of flute & I turned to the live performance by the relatively unknown band. I think the flute is a melancholy instrument. It makes the soul stir within so violently that the mortal being can feel the ripples physically.

I gazed blankly for some time. Not so much at the band, but at the rope swings a little distance away in the backdrop of the performance. Tiny kids dangled in the air, harnessed to a rope by their arms. Their guardians seemed to cheer them on & clap. I could hear nothing of it. There is distinctness to life when viewed in mute. The sense of sound can sometimes blind the inner eye.
I looked up at the skies again, only this time, a host of brand-billboards hit the eye. Aside I could see a giant air-ball rolling with hapless children (supposedly) thrilled at the ‘joyride’. Childhood had been a lot simpler when I was a child – happiness lay in small things & the joy was larger than life.

The ball soon rolled out of sight & the billboards stared in my face again. Four years ago, I entered the first big mall in my life & I was overwhelmed…four years hence from then, it doesn’t even register to me.

I stand a ground which is a podium of ‘success’ as some define it. It’s a dais I never wished to own as a child. Still, the stage is all mine, and here I stand, blocking some colorful light beams from falling to to the ground…I carry their colors upon my person. And, so do the people whose shadows I walk on...