Whitefield

Whitefield in Bangalore is diseased. The lakes are frothing over with the infected pus of humanity, while the roads are potholed enough to resemble the pockmarked face of one blighted by syphilis . The dust alone if collected efficiently would probably be enough to fill in the few remaining lakes and build a few more illegal apartment complexes. The thousands of people who pass through this area on a daily basis experience the kind of mind expansion that was hitherto the domain of hallucinogenic substances. I once sat in traffic for long enough to  almost attain nirvana but was struck in face by a ball of froth which woke me up from my trance. The overwhelming chant of abuse flowing out of the windows of stalled cars, tempos and autos resemble the drone of a Buddhist temple gone very very wrong. The welcoming smell of raw sewage tinged with a few higher notes of sulfurous fumes Darden your senses further. The sensory deprivation tank that is whitefield will either cause you to question your existence and possibly realize the futility of living or like me, you will find a place like this to vent your frustration.