Traffic is so
beautiful here. Muted horns and muffled engines, a whispering breeze, a
frothing sea. A city on the move, a procession of mechanical power and human
ingenuity, a river of rolling lights, of logistics and luxury, toil and
livelihoods, trade and liveliness, of the unsung, by the unheard, for the
unknown, so common place, its magnificence undreamt of by poets and
philosophers, nay, even scientists and engineers of yore; the tumult and tides
of life, the bells and whistles and joys and sorrows of daily existence. With
similes yet to coin, metaphors yet to sculpt.
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I notice several people complain about
traffic, for example, without realizing how amazing it is that there is so much
traffic at all. Last year, when someone complained about being stuck in
traffic, I happened to be on Marina beach, in Madras and I composed this.
Nice narration Gopu. Hope Indian roads will become the space to enjoy soon. Till than enjoy spending more time in your dream cars and Bikes.
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