It has been twenty-four years since she’d last seen it, but the place looked exactly the same. To her, maybe. Time moved in contexts as waves, Ruhi decided. Each wave displaces the previous one. Yet, there are some people who live in the flux of things. Her two maternal uncles occupied the first and the third house on the front lane of Dwarka Nagar or the Gateway (to Heaven) City. The cemetery masking it from the road lent its name to the colony. Gateway to Heaven hid many such families behind its walls. The two houses were single-room dwellings, housing multiple members, as did the others in the colony. Ruhi could see through the front door, out through the back one, into the lane behind, and on a bright day, she could even wave and talk to someone on the third lane through the second lane house. In deference to architectural decorum let us refer to these houses as rooms. Grandparents, two Uncles, one of whom was married bearing her a cousin and temporary residents like her ...
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.