And when I enter the ballrooms, I see people only in slow motions. Many people would dance in the ballroom. They drift along the vast reaches of the ballroom as if nobody is watching. They sometimes float down the corners clasping in the hands of each other.
Girls bob ‘up and down’ out in the street as if they refuse to get rid of the hangover. Love knows no reasons and waits for no logic, it just happens and when they fall in love, taxi drivers continue to refuse to down the gear and George Street would find it again hard to make way for the cabs. They are drunk, Miss and in the morning they would find no reason to believe that they ever fall in love. I remember the story of Narcissus; the Greek hero who denied the love of nymph Echo and as a punishment, “he was doomed to fall in love with his own reflection in a pool of water. Unable to consummate his love, Narcissus pined away and changed into a flower that bears his name the Narcissus”. You would find it out in the cemetery.