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Subah aankh khulti hai, neend abhi bhi aadhi hai. Haath aage badha ke parda hataata hai aur seedha bahar jhaankta hai. Kya scene hai? Wohi roz ka bhosdike ka mahol. Gali shor se bhari padi hai—gaadiyan bhaag rahi hain, log chilla rahe hain, par beech sadak ka asli tamasha wahi hai.

Log nange hokar ek dusre ko chod rahe hain jaise yeh koi normal baat ho. Koi gaadi ke bonnet pe, koi gali ke kone mein, aur kuch to bina sharam ke beech raste pe hi. Ek second ke liye dimaag sochta hai, “Saale, yeh duniya kahan pahunch gayi hai?” Par phir shrug karta hai jaise ki yeh sab daily ka scene ho.

Chal, chutiye, ab breakfast karna hai. Kitchen mein jaake fridge kholta hai, doodh nikalta hai, par sochta hai ki yeh bhi kisi ke baap ka hai kya? Ek toast daala aur saath mein TV on kar diya. News wahi roz ka lund scene dikhata hai—“Aaj phir population ne record tod diya, har minute ek naya chutiya janm le raha hai!”

Ek sip chai ka liya, ek baar socha ki aaj kya scene banaaye? Dimaag slow chal raha hai, lekin ek cheez to pakki hai— “Aaj bhi kuch naya thokna padega ya wahi roz ka gaand chatne ka routine?”