Cloudy days, inky clouded evenings, cool breeze, the tall towering modern apartments that condescendingly acknowledge your return in the evening, landscaped gardens that stay unmoved to the entreaties of most howling winds and refuse to so much as flutter a leaf without their creator's permission, a 2 yr old swaddled in diapers, tottering to a ridiculous red slide and looking inconsequential in front of an 18 storeyed tower that is her home, grimy labourers counting their wages and emerging from the underground city that is the Parking lot, the garden variety flowers that grow in these garden variety gardens.
This is my home, now. At 5:30 p.m., on a regular day, taken from a bad mobile camera in regular mode and with no effects whatsoever. Looks like it could easily be used as cover image for any of Ayn Rand's books. If the weather weren't so good...
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