A yellow plastic packet -"Pulla Reddy" announced itself and dangled from his hand.
I adopted that name for him. "Pulla Reddy" - his namesake turned out to be a sweet shop.
A comical sight, but i felt strangely sad. The man had a stern demeanor to match his form and the sweet packet was in stark contrast to the scheme of things. Mr. Pulla Reddy in all his grimness had remembered to buy that box of sweets to take home - to his kids?...his wife?...his mom?
I couldn't take my eyes of him as he swayed with the inertia, quite content to suspend all efforts of any voluntary movement.
I got off the red hissing cube and ran away into the night and the madness of voices converging over production 'n deadlines, as Pulla Reddy goes home to his sweets...
