For no particular reason I got on the bike and headed in the familiar direction of Sinhagad. It was quite late in the evening and I knew I would have to turn back long before the slow wondrous ghat up to the fort. But, for a traveler, it is the road which matters, is it not? The destination is only some mythical outpost. He seeks the trivial eccentricities of the road. There is distraction and even some minor entertainment to be had if one knows where to look for it. To forget the tedium of life.
On this particular road things have changed over the last couple of years since I started frequenting it. It used to be a pleasant ride out of town. Now it is grime filled traffic hell right up to the Khadakwasala lake. One has to suffer it for what lies beyond. Especially at this time of the year, a roadside abloom with these flowers.