Three miles west of nowhere, I wait atop a grassy knoll landscaped with deliberate carelessness by the authorities of this semi-dilapidated amusement park. She said she will meet me here at the appointed time but as luck would have it, neither one of us owns a watch. Ravenous crows with their wings a-stretched and eyes a-bulged circle overhead: a dark, black ring set against a grey sky. I scan my surroundings and find myself alone… as alone as the day I was born. As I shoo my mother, the doctor and his two nurses away, I wonder where she might be at this very moment: caught in a jam full of traffic or confined to her room by the elders of her household, barred from meeting the man she loves and his lustrous, well-coiffed do.
Creepily crawling ants dodge my sneakered soles as they make their way home for the day. Leaves rustle and droop as they emit whiffs of carbondioxide that make my blood pressure plunge. City lights flicker in the distance as a rickshaw throttles by on the road below, polluting my environs and coating the withering leftovers of a despondent spring with soot and non-biodegradable petrol fumes. Continue reading Waiting for Guddo: Farid Alvie






