At this roundabout I give my turning the miss, deliberately. Once in the car I did it thrice prompting my co-passenger to firm up her mind on what she always suspected: I was a directionless nig-nog. Its hugeness doesn’t let me notice the hexagonal shape but allows me to zip, zigzagging through traffic. There are many pedestrian crossings where you wait for animated families, parents dragging skipping children lost on ice lollies. Many continue earnestly into their slightly raised mouthpieces without missing a beat; couples hand-in-hand, springing steadfastly towards what
When polity develops accountability and corporatedom grows a heart it becomes Twenty20. This is practical Utopia: organisation, skilled manpower, resource and vision meet people. Being first of its kind, everything is not honky-dory; then at every turn there is a new learning. Posing a threat to established norms, hierarchical bureaucracy and lucrative red-tapism, obstacles are aplenty. But addressing each and surmounting them are exercises in cohesion; when people come together to ascertain their rights, democracy flowers and its roots go deeper. What was at worst dismissed as a philanthropist’s dream
It’s like John Wick – unless you know the history, you are just looking at a brooding, pretty façade. But under the sempiternal glow of the autumn sun falling unfiltered through a cloudless sky, even the air beholds the sprawling regalia with a breathless stillness. In the boughs and boles, even those afar, one detects a hushed awe. With name and genus tags though they all look very business-like, they have wilfully succumbed to the glory in their midst. Look at the branches of the Weeping Fig for example –
