An account of my enlightening encounter at Indirapuram slum
Being engrossed in the mundane routine of the run-down machine that life had metamorphosised into, for her; her existence was governed by Austen’s quote (in the novel “Mansfield Park”) where life for her appeared nothing but a swift progression of eventful nothings. Alike others, her life was reduced to a joyless tedious humdrum of hoarding the ephemeral materialistic procurements, that awefully victimised her at the clutches of desolation. It sure as well was not a sunny day for her, until one fine day she resolved to suspend her engagement with the robotic survival she’d voluntarily enslaved herself to (that certainly proved unworthy in rendering her with any respite), and perhaps to map her life on her own terms, forthrightly. In order to relocate herself in life, restore her stability and pacify her ever-racing mind, she decided to take some time off from her monotonous lifestyle and devote herself for a social cause, in the meantine. And this she effected via the ass