The walking stick thumped on the hard parts of the road, the muck had accumulated unevenly on the road. Two pairs of legs followed the stick; one pair had a lace socks and a buckle shoe and other pair was larger, varicose veins conveniently showing up on the clawed feet that wore the chappals in a haphazard manner. They found their sweet spot, in front of an old gate which lead nowhere, it was the only calm.

“Thata – they are walking right into the cycle” she piqued, looking at the cycle with wide eyes.

“Rushing, Rekha! Everyone is busy.” He smiled.

1

“Why aren’t we rushing Thata?” her eyes brimming with questions.

“We miss the details when we rush Rekha. Always remember – Never rush in life. If you do then everything thing will blur out” the grandfather was imparting wisdom.

2

“What is blur?” she shot back.

“Details not being clear / readable”

“Then we will not be able to learn!” she responded intelligently, “Why do people do that?”

“Because they do not realise what they are missing out! Look” he said “the sunset”

She was battering him with more questions.

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**

She looked at a small boy looking away lazily upon his father’s shoulder. Twenty years had gone by, she was in the same place. Tears welled up in her eyes, grandfather – granddaughter was a blessed bond.

6

 

*Story inspired from the images*

The images in this post were taken at T Nagar – Ranganathan Street By Lakshmi Venkataraman!
Hi Res Images – 

https://flic.kr/s/aHsm1xBhXX

 

 

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