She sits like a zombie, staring blankly ahead at the computer screen. Her mind also feels blank or maybe not, because there are a number of random thoughts swimming in her head.
Lately, she has been bored with life. She feels like there is no purpose to her existence. She is living a routine life just to earn some money and survive.
Today, as she read C.K. Meena's 'Dreams for the Dying', she felt her life and experiences could just as well be those of the women characters portrayed in the book. An unmarried woman's unexpected encounter with a charming stranger in the train, a married woman's stray thoughts as she lives a dual life, an old widow's retrospection of 'what could have been' if she had acted differently during some of those rare moments in her past.
Coming to this city was a big mistake, she thought. It had robbed her of her happiness, and her eagerness for life and living. Or maybe, she was too much in love with the 'city of dreams' to give a fair chance to any other place in the world, she thought. But she couldn't help it, for she sorely missed the crowds, the spontaneity of life and the humanity in Bombay. Everything moved like clockwork in that bustling city. Nobody had time to waste and everybody went about their business like busybody ants. And how she loved to melt in the crowd and be just another face in that sea teeming with millions. Nobody stared at her, nobody tried to touch her; she felt free.
She had no secrets. Somebody or the other knew one or the other thing about her. She couldn't say, 'I haven't told anybody this', or 'Nobody knows this about me'. That was perhaps why she was a boring person, she felt.
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