Hostile world filled with hoards of unknown faces lit up with smirks remind me time and again that I’m an unwelcomed surfer in the quaint streets. With “values”  on a meteor trip and “the values” plummeting in to the abyss, the lost World seemingly a bliss and the current giving all counts a miss, I find myself in middle of nowhere with eye of that storm approaching fast from everywhere. Doyens walked,  so did dinos. Stones aged into mountains, clothes and cloaks eased into strips. Phases of development throwing up faces so (un)true, accolades and epitaphs pasted with same glue.. this dot in galaxy douses me in despair, with its relics and rituals far from fair