He continued walking up to a main road, a busy artery of his hill station hometown. The cars were lined up on the road, a traffic jam that was never going to be resolved. Almost all of the occupants seemed to have left their rides in a hurry, some with doors ajar. The shops here too were mostly empty, but signs of life emanated from the crowded localities that constituted the flesh beneath the lining of commercial establishments on Laitumkhrah’s main street. K walked on, the rain got heavier.
Author: Silvester PhanbuhSilvester Phanbuh has made his way back to Shillong via Yahoo!
Old Brahmadev probably has walked down most of the lanes of Shillong but not too many would know his name. He would only be recognized by the bell he rings and the green compartmentalized box he carries that we all so well recognize.
The vibrance of the streets of Shillong can be overwhelming, especially on a crowded public holiday, or even just rush hour on weekdays when the colleges are at their peaks of attendance levels. A few steps away from the bustling centers however, and you are transported to a different world, where houses snuggle together in the dying sun and lanes disappear and reappear on the curves of hills.
What does one do in Shillong, but observe,
Fancy people walking on stilts of insecurity.
Poor people justifying their fate as victims.
Never mind a Dylanesque aura about this town,
Which is so fake.
Never mind the so called Christian culture,
Which is so adopted.
“Where is all that foreign food?” asked the middle aged gentleman. “Wasn’t there supposed to besome cuisines from across the world? I had Thai food when I visited my son in Bangalore and that Austrian stall has run out of sausages. I guess I will go make a run for the Bhoi stall.”