Tulsi in Cyberpunk

Today, right after lunch, my eyes happened to fall upon the world just outside my window.

It had been a long time since I last sat in front of our wood-crafted windows to observe the hustle and bustle of the outer world. When I was a child, the scenery outside felt like an entirely different realm, and those windows acted as portals to it. In those days, it was an absolute joy to watch the sparrows and parrots exchanging words among the branches. An old lady in our neighborhood used to worship the tulsi plants and hang her washed clothes on the terrace to dry. Dogs would run eagerly toward a kind man who fed them Parle biscuits every morning at sharp nine o’clock. And then there was that same kid who, in the most adorable way, would resist going to school.

Back in the present, I found myself sitting just like that same small kid in front of the window, but things had changed drastically.

The air was filled with the buzz of the afternoon hustle, heavy with the smell of medicine. The sky was lit by the sun, appearing bright blue with beautiful clouds dotting the canvas. But there were no trees left underneath those skies; instead, they had been replaced by congested alleys snaking between high-rise concrete jungles and the pharmaceutical shops lining the ground floors of the buildings.

There was no grass, no sign of the cute resistance of that adorable kid, and no one left to feed the dogs. Now, the stray animals had to make a living by scavenging through the piles of empty medicine boxes cluttering the lanes. The old lady who used to climb up to the terrace to water the holy tulsi was gone. In her place, neighboring lodges and clinics had converted the space into residences for nurses and medical staff.

That terrace, once a sacred site for a morning ritual, now frequently became a late-night party spot and a gossip hub for young medical interns. Instead of colorful washed saris, there were only sterile white bedsheets and clinical clothes laid out to dry in the sun. The space was now littered with used cigarettes and empty liquor bottles. To throw a final blanket over the scene, dust from nearby construction sites hung constantly in the air, filling the surrounding houses with dirt.