ANGRY PETER AT CHAOTIC CP

 ANGRY PETER AT CHAOTIC CP

 

Peter navigated through the chaotic sea of bodies and bustling activity in the inner circle of Connaught Place, the heart of New Delhi, India. The tantalising scent of street foods, the golgappas and tikiwalas on the pavements, only served to mock his foul mood. The oppressive heat, a relentless companion, seemed to conspire with the crowd to fuel his growing rage. His temper flared as a group of giggling teenagers, oblivious to his presence, rudely jostled past him, their antics for Instagram reels a stark contrast to his simmering anger. He strained to drown out the blaring music from the popular café, its upbeat tempo a cruel reminder of his troubled state.

 

The tattoo artists trying to entice customers and the group of four ladies trying to collect money from passersby by pinning a small national flag on them further aggravated his dampened mood. He found no novelty in seeing the rush of tourists snapping photos of the colonial-era buildings and architecture. Nor did he find it amusing to see extensive Indian families window shopping.

 

In a rage, he felt like kicking the hat lying open in front of the street musicians for tips. Suddenly, a large black dog started following him around, and he lost his cool and hurled a series of choicest expletives at it. The dog turned away and ran off, perhaps thinking it better to leave him alone. He roughly shooed away the beggars begging for alms.

 

The giant billboards and advertisements did little to cheer his dark mood. The cacophony of cars honking, people chattering, hawkers shouting, and music blaring was too much for him to handle today. The organised chaos was getting to him. The old-world colonial-style buildings did nothing to change his perspective. All he wanted was to be as far away from this chaotic and maddening place as fast as possible.

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