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Showing posts from April, 2011

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           The working men in the opposite buildings return home honking ,though it is almost midnight, and soon they have gone up to their places   the burglar alarms break out shattering the just-arrived silence of night. The roaming cattle have rubbed against the mini-cars.   At this time of the night some kids can be heard playing cricket in their courtyard; the bouncing of plastic ball and the banging of bat against the cemented floor, and the noise travelling through the joined-floors. It is Sunday night one wonders why the kids are still allowed to play cricket: the syndrome of IPL tournament and the world cup hangover. My eyelids become heavier, but my heated restless body turns from one side to another on the inch-thick mattress below the newly bought sheet, which the retailer said it would never fade.                    ...