MG Road, Bangalore City
A damp, rainy, traffic-clogged Saturday evening
A youth jaywalks across the road, quite an expert at it by now, and heads for Brigade - to meet a friend, to have a party, to shop a bit if time permits; another typical IT-bachelor evening beckons.
A woman, penniless and pitiful, her child wailing in her arms, approaches. She extends her arm - for a thought to spare, a rupee to share.
He avoids the eye and moves on without a sigh; scratches the flab at the side of his tummy, scratches it that has grown over the last couple of months.
A youth jaywalks across the road, quite an expert at it by now, and heads for Brigade - to meet a friend, to have a party, to shop a bit if time permits; another typical IT-bachelor evening beckons.
A woman, penniless and pitiful, her child wailing in her arms, approaches. She extends her arm - for a thought to spare, a rupee to share.
He avoids the eye and moves on without a sigh; scratches the flab at the side of his tummy, scratches it that has grown over the last couple of months.
A thought is lost somewhere.
PS: The youth suddenly realises that what has passed, a good journal entry he could be proud of.