I'm hanging outside the 11.40 pm local and the rain is lashing across my face with a fury so vicious that I'm blinded by the cascade.
I struggle to open my eyes, fighting against the gale, just enough to see tiny droplets clinging onto my eyelashes, as the city passes by in a blur; like a flurry of fireflies in a black forest.
Pure, vintage Bombay.
2 comments:
no two ways about it man! I can almost taste those rain drops and hear that railway clamor.
Good ol' Bombay. :)
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