Ansh looked out of his window seat. He could see the gathering grey war clouds. Somewhere behind those clouds were enemy planes, lingering drones waiting to engage him or evade him. On the other side of the aisle, a middle-aged lady was reciting her nauseous prayers. Out from her side of the window, were snowy clouds carrying civilian planes bound for homes everywhere in his country. He thought of floating out of the flight, over the western sky and seeing everything usual. The desert and the farms, the tense communal situation across the panorama, the bright IPL match lights glowing in one of the cities. More often than not, his thoughts placed him elsewhere from his location. From a cosy ambience, 31,000 ft. above the border of Rajasthan and Madhya Pradesh, he drifted to 2010, in a shadowy basement in Delhi’s Mukherjee Nagar. As he walked in the narrow corridor, he could hear Ajay Sir’s voice, making him the late arrival. Usually, Sir was never on time and they all waited for...
Prashant's Solace
I sincerely try to follow and ponder over all that stimulates me... beauty, innocence, violence, emotion, action, reaction and so on. Find my take on all of these and much more on this blog.