a small town. proximity to delhi. population just over 10 lakhs. western UP. memories of growing up. jaats and loud booming voices. small streets. packed markets. hindus and muslims. birds and bees. an attempt to describe.
a gr8 place was the cantt bus stand. nothing gr8 abt it... but it became special by the dint of long hours spent there waiting fer a roadways bus to delhi ISBT. it offered a most interesting vantage point on humanity and its idiosyncracies. the concoction of ppl, bordering on the weird, and the cacophony of daily life, bordering on the rhapsodic.... it proffered a queer but interesting insight into the machinations of life... vis-a-vis day to day existence.
but meerut did evoke a feeling of lazy pathos around it. it was like a painting done in exquisite colors... which the painter never got around to completing... and somehow ppl just forgot abt it. it still hangs as an unfinished tapestry on the canvas of history.
yeah, those r my thots on meerut.
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