What can a stretch of road in the middle of a busy city mean to anyone. A road where when you walk by you are just another anonymous person, another entity in the countless millions, another ant in the bustling ant colony. Can a street, an alley, a road grow into being a part of you. A Road that is in no way yours, a road that you share with thousands of other people whom you dont know or have no intention of knowing.
There are relationships that you get into, not because you want to or because you have to, but just because you happened to be there. My relationship with Park Street is something of that sort. A relationship that started of with the usual flirtings during the teenage years. Walking down the streets, with nothing at all to do...gazing at the cars flow by, the beautiful girls walk away and the once in a while useful trip to some fancy restaurant.
And then came the college days. Three years of knowing each other. Three years during which I walked her length innumerable times, getting to be part of her daily crowd. Three years during which I had fights, friendships, laughter, tears thats I shared with her.
Those daily ritual of walking back with friends to the bus stop, walking for 45 minutes what would normally take 15 or less. Shouting on the middle of the road as if we owned the world. Feeling so much at home.
Those treats at Peipings or Bar-B-q, those intellectual rounds at Oxford, killing time at Music World. And visiting the cemetery. And the bribing of cops for running a trafic light, did it all.
All thanks to Park Street...