by Nikhita. U, III B.Com. (Gen) There are a hundred places I've been bored at. Especially the ones that should have had me fully occupied. Any place; you name it, I've been bored there. But somehow, the ‘in-between’ between two places—the travel, the supposedly gruelling two hours of my day has been tiring, but never boring. Every afternoon, I get into the same auto rickshaw, bracing myself for countless heat waves, equipped with a scarf that barely allows me to breathe. Where I'm sitting, I'm exposed to concerning bouts of pollution, a hundred prying eyes and noise that stays long after it's gone, but somehow it's not the worst place to be. I get in there with my phone at the ready, books downloaded and playlists set. But among the bizarre spellings on billboards, really cool graffiti, annoyingly overlapping posters on the walls, and my obsessive need to read everything that's written around me, the playlist gains my attention only when it's ov...
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