Chapter 13 from Team: Wordoholics.
Click here to read the 12th Chapter in Remya's Blog!
In the evening Jennifer sat with her laptop and poured little scotch onto a paunchy crystal glass... she loves it single malt. Since she joined BBC, she perceived a gradual decline in her creative-libido as a photographer. No more does she incline for street photographies, nor schedule her alarm for golden hours. Almost hundred gigabytes of unprocessed image file have been hibernating in her portable drive since she relocated to Mumbai. A sense of dormant guilt was perturbing the passionate photographer in her- “Darling are you just a corporate slave?” No way, she decided. She couldn't wait for the coming sunday to organize her photo archives.
With every sip of the golden liquid, she was getting more attached to those photos on the display. Instead of categorizing Jenny was trying to smell the air, water and dust in them. There was a giant statue of Monkey God looming over a speedy city train passing by its waist level, on the LCD where she paused.
Whenever you get intoxicated with alcohol, your mind tends to avenge you by playing your drunken master with collage of memories, till you get exhausted and knocked out by default!
Jennifer Joseph came out slowly of the Karolbagh metro station as if keeping a count of her own steps and rang somebody, “Hey, where're you? I see you nowhere around...”
“It is no more safe there. Take the lane on your left and walk till you touch the main road. Keep walking straight and you'll find a mammoth Hanuman statue on the other side of the road. Don't cross the road. Remain within ten meters of the rusted Madrasa gate. And the most important thing, don't even think of asking road direction from anyone...” the call was disconnected abruptly.