autos are bees?

I haven't seen much of the sun today. Maybe that is why she didn't smile at me , my face isn't a pleasant one to look at. Specially in such weather. The air is stale , but odourless ,It seems to be keeping with the lazy Sunday afternoon. I haven't seen much of the sun.

I was still busy trying to locate Wheat Crofts Lane on my Pocket City Map , one that I bought for 15 rupees at the same place that I buy my cigarettes. The cover page of the map was a very unimaginative picture of a sterile white church ,with a weepy Mother Mary and baby Jesus convincing ( or rather attempting to convince) the "tourist" that this was a "must see".On having visited the church I realised that Mother Mary was right. I have a compass attached to this flimsy book , I tied it with some rope I bought from the same shop. "How much do you want" asked the man while scratching his right armpit , where there was a rather interestingly shaped scar. It reminded me of the droopy eyes of a Beagle. I've never had a dog , but they have funny eyes. "rendu addi" I pronounced rather triumphantly in Tamil.He handed the coir over to me and resumed scratching the beagles eye while making tea for a man smoking a cigarette.
I was sitting on the pavement. The map between my legs , as I tied them together-exactly 15 inches apart- I reminded my self as usual.The rest of course was contributed to tying the compass to map.
I never walk more than 200 steps at a time , if I'm walking North or South that is. The earth is like a huge magnet. \I don't know if you know this , but we have enough iron in our bodies that the momentum with which we walk might just throw our bodies towards one of the poles , forever doomed to either stick to one end , inanimate , or orbit the earth. Every time that I check my compass or tie my feet I wonder if that is so bad.
That's why very often you don't see the same people on the road , if you've seen them more than once , they've tied their feet too. You can tell by the way they walk. Maybe she ties her feet too.
The share autos are pulling over everywhere , screaming men persuading people to get in. I always get into the same one as her.
These contraptions are shaky , and they have funny license numbers. They don't teach you this in the driving test manual , but license numbers are actually ways for machines to identify them selves, for when the aliens come. That's why humans don't have numbers , the one's who don't tie their feet. The auto is shaky , I think she's stopped wearing a bra.
There's an old man scowling at every auto he sees. When he catches me looking at him , he smiles and says " auto's are yellow and black , so are bees , the question really though is whether my money is their honey". He smiles triumphantly , she looks at him and smiles too. I decide it couldn't hurt and smile , I ask him if he's a poet.
He looks at me the same way he did at the passing autos "you're wearing yellow, yellow yellow dirty fellow!". I notice his feet aren't tied , I'm waiting for him to go flying out of the speeding (and meandering) auto, hopefully towards the south pole. He'll probably disintegrate into thin air.
She's safe though , she uses a charmed coin that she clenches tightly in her left fist with her hanky , I've never seen her give it away. I was right she isn't wearing a bra.
The old man finally stops scowling , I look around wondering why he hasn't flown off yet.The magnets are week on cloudy days like these. We're stuck in a jam. "what do you do?" , he asks me stroking his beard. I pretend as though I didn't hear him , but if I annoy him anymore he might pull me along with him once the auto starts speeding again , and I don't want to be stuck in orbit with him. " I visit places in cities in Alphabetical order." He coughs , spitting out bits of molten red steel with saliva. Some people eat steel wrapped in big leaves , they buy it where I buy my cigarettes. I'm convinced he's crazy now by the way he's looking at me. Some old tamil music is blaring on the tiny speakers of the auto , but at least we're moving again. I begin obsessively staring at a mosquito , he spits again. " tell me boy , why does the caged bird fly , alone on the wings of its minds eye?. " I ask him if he likes birds.
The darned man is not in orbit yet.