Pin-Hole Camera
A fan is in motion. A room is dark and filled with plumes of smoke. Walls peel off, paint smells and create a sense of nausea. A man is travelling in a cab. He doesn’t know where the cab is destined to go; but he sits there – stone-faced. A quicksand exists in all its usualness sucking in a new born baby. A fist just emerges out of the blue and keeps going back and forth. The cab makes its way through the bylanes. A flag unfurls and sways unperturbed in the thin air. A wedding procession is on its way and somewhere else a funeral pyre is burning. The meter goes on ticking and the ride goes on. A girl is drowning in the sea of currency notes; while food lies in the wastelands. The ride of the cab is going on and on. Outside the window, the city is desecrating and is in shambles. Cries, shrieks and screams fill the streets as the radio blares out songs and speeches indistinguishable from each other. They all sound like noise. The car turns towards a hu