The light tortures the slinky darkness and seizes the meditations of those home-bound. On the street streams swim cigarette butts, perhaps with the smoke, smiles and sins of the smokers. The merry-go-round of what happens and what people think happens doesn’t stop for poems, ponderings and the music in your head.
You wait in the aroma of Kerala style beef fry while your feet let loose to the beat, illuminated by blinkers from passing traffic and street lights. That dog in the police vehicle sees you and wags his tail.