it came like a vague pain long lost in the beating of time a realisation an information an unpleasant realism like suddenly noticing that the man who comes to make the gardens beautiful is always in rags of clothes and that the man who drives little children to despotic schools has his teeth charred with cheap cigarettes and that enormous sadness in the yellow eyes thinking every day of his mother who has bad lungs and is senile of his wife who wants cheap new bangles to color the grind of curses hurts -Chores they are called and he lights a new beedi
and i get uncomfortable with the idea of love yes an idea no longer Love with the feeling and the awesomeness but a stone hard realism of a feminist and it makes me want to turn away or look past and look at ,and leap to the solitude of a traveler revelling in the journey of the earth with it's hospitality