The Cold New Year Night

The bustling streets are at it again, we all have seen what it's like to hear a drop silent city would be like. 

The new year night has a different vibe of its own, over the years only the way I perceive it has changed. 

As I cycled across the streets on my evening ride, I watched these makeshift stalls all over the street like mushrooms on a rainy evening selling cakes, "oh the product sells like a hot cake", this phrase must have originated from here, I thought.

The pandemic has stopped us from having the lavish parties but it probably didn’t stop us from having the little celebrations with our families.

I watched a couple with their toddler sitting on a bike, as his dad picked up the cake box and placed it in his hands, the toddler's face was lighted up and he grinned with a cute devilish smile probably meant that he is going to have all of it.

As I moved further, I watched the street-side vendors selling the Rangoli colours which are going to make the street look like an outer galaxy filled with infinite stars as the clock hit 12. 

A huge lorry struggling to find its way in this packed street took a U-turn and parked blocking my way and vehicles behind me started to honk for the clearance. "It will take just a while" the driver yelled and ordered his men to unload quickly.

As his men unloaded, they sang in unison which synced quite well with the clinking sound of tools of MasterChef noodles maker in our street. 

There is a CHISEL gym on the third floor with glass walls parked with BMW and AUDI, Men there sweat on treadmills and men here sweat for the pay. Some pay for burning calories while some get paid for burning calories I thought.

A 5-storey building, arranged a new year eve in their parking lot, a fragrance from their menu made me drool and I watched a teenage couple exchanging wishes hideously behind the pillars, love is in the air. Kind of brought me back to my old quarters days where we had absolute blast celebrating and winning those colour pens and tiffin boxes as a gift. 

Three teenagers aka nibbas on their official brand ride, DIO scooty overtook drifting in a zigzag motion, letting lose themselves and shouting their lungs out, I missed that pack of energy when I was at that age I thought.

A shopping mall nearby has lit up the street like a full moon day, a family at the checkout counter were handed their new clothes in paper bags “made from the recycle materials”, the bag read. On the opposite lane a mini Omni was parked to the side and a tall man with a towel around his neck shouted the offers in loud voice with a portable speaker and he handed the pair of clothes in a polythene bag to the daily 2 wage workers shopping for their little back at home and the women smile made it clear that the little one would surely love it. Happiness does come in different boxes, I thought.

I reached the traffic signal at the end of the street and it was clogged with vehicles. I watched an employee, tired and sweating in this terrible cold evening and a man seated at the back seat in the white decorated VIP Innova was sweating too, TENSION. 

2020 hit us all but it was disproportionate