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Connaught Place

Connaught place lay rollicking in the moonlight like a fully clad portly matron in slumber. A lonely sparrow chirped from the low hanging branch of the mulberry tree behind the unlit lamp post. Alas, it was not good enough… just not good enough to usher in the summer. He walked past the labyrinth of Cubist images outlined by the brush strokes of neon lamps from the moonlight mixed palette. How distant was the daybreak that like a bowing turbaned waiter served hangover in a silver platter? The little bit of naked sky visible through the leaves of the mango grove that extended beyond the fencing of the Dutch styled bungalow was all he needed as the witness for the prosecution.

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