Birds outside the window are fine. Not hooting, maniacal delinquents with murderous psyches who will go on to rule the nation and contribute to its economy. And the screaming engines of motorcycles whizzing by, disconsolate and disaffected, oblivious to the whining, grinding cries of humanity, crushed into meaningless paste and smeared across the windshields.
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Sab Kuch Tick Tock Hai
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