I was halted by a small piebald dog. It had a belt around its neck and it was wagging tail. I asked it what the matter was and it jumped around barking. It was an old grudge and yet it was wagging its tail.

The chaturthi Moon is like a pelting stone for Venus and Mercury. I am tired of remarking on grandness of virus. Old people swear by their ancient bones : it’s bigger than anything else. It’s bigger than East India Company.

A truck driver asked me directions. I find myself to be one amongst many : dependent on mercy of police , militia and state who seem to act as if on a whim. The mass hypnotists are thriving and some of them are thrilled to this addiction of making a tool of others.

Pick any random magazine from AWG. It might be an article about the environment as it was 25 years ago. It uses the same language as present day journalists do.

I had given upon desire to live. It’s not virus or being separated from my people. It’s the absolutely wonderful ludicrously facetious state of affairs in which so called intelligentsia delights. I can’t do anything whatsoever to open their eyes to gaping truth of monotonic ictus.