but it's the world that's mad, not me!

This post has been bubbling under for a long time...

I wonder sometimes if it's me who's schizo or everything else. Look at this city, for instance; there's been floods, rains, riots, and bombs. And then there's been the same commute, the heat and the traffic... the whole country is like that. Shake it up and it settles down again instantly. Roads are dug up, drains clog, lights go, traffic snarls, taps dry... and work happens, people carry on. Everything works, slightly twistedly, like a car bouncing between divider and wall, scattering sparks and pedestrians alike, but keeps on going.

The world around me is crowded, sweaty, dirty, infested, loud... and barely an hour's drive out, it's dead silence and emptiness. The people you do see will offer you tea, a place to sleep...

People will rip off the rubber coating around car windows for fun, and scratch a scar into the side with a key... and people will carry injured commuters to hospital in the only sheet they have.

I hate this city, this country, and I can't imagine life without it.

The years are amazing, but the actual minutes are hell. (Sorry, Douglas Adams)

And I don't think it's me that's nuts. It's India. Nothing works, but everything carries on.

Chaos that runs like a clockwork machine.

I wish I could understand how it can all be one complete functioning thing. Organism. Alive.