As Rumours Have it

A town is like a caged animal. Resting peacefully, as it fed daily, without much hindrance. It has a definite system, a body politic and a state apparatus which, ceaseless though it seems, is hardly bothered. It lacks its own thoughts, and it is surfaced with superficial joys which shadow the daily dreary chore of its life. What make it peculiarly unbearable are the occasional events that disrupt the listless flow of life. The absence of a housekeeper in a particular house is sentenced through to others in a town, crossing fences. A house, where the television is switched on, at all hours, refuses to switch it on for a day becomes news, darting fast like a truant from school.  A shriek in one of the houses arrests the attention of many and the dinner tables are filled with discussions. Mind you, every version is different from the other!
                          When you are yourself part of this cobweb, winding deep and deep in every street, all you want is to grab a book of Woodehouse and pray to have Jeeves’ life!

Thank you.