Finally, it came. Like the solitary note from a wooden flute. Faces unfamiliar stood motionless among the hullabaloo, tingling apprehension gave way to hopeless blasphemy. But it still came. Like the unexpected ace in the middle of a card-game. The mob took no notice, even the history remained at its static best. Still it came. Like the slightly off-keyed interlude of a Kabir Suman song. And, the craziest coyness touched the tip of a very nervous tongue.
What did not happen is not going to happen again in this land of mugglish predictability.
What did not happen is not going to happen again in this land of mugglish predictability.
1 comment:
muggish predictability it is... sad but true! my thoughts exactly
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