I was feeling quite confused here on the 228th Street. As if, I had come here for the first time. I was shivering both from the freshly started cold days and the thoughts that why it all suddenly seemed so unique and different. What should I do to feel at home? There was the thought that was primarily coming to my mind. One side of my mind knew that this street was not strange to me and the other side was showing completely different signs. Something was amiss though. The street was the same and so was the atmosphere. The buildings were the same and so were the roads. Then what had changed? Why was I feeling as though I had come to some different place? Why was I having a feeling of suffocation? This confusion was eating into me. I felt like my head was reeling under the pressure. I could not hold myself from this confusion. It seemed that the very same place that once was so familiar to me seemed to be eating me. I was very scared, sacred to the core. My throat was asking for water. My lips seemed to have a fight with water and the water seemed to have taken off. My knees were trembling with fear and so was I from top to bottom. Suddenly I heard someone calling out to me. The voice seemed familiar but there was a distinct emotion, which seemed to be unheard of. There was no love in that call and it was more than enough to set myself into cold waves. The very same street was calling out to me. But what is it? Why was it so unhappy with me and why was it calling out to me as if it was coming to finish me off, as if I were its prey? Believe me; I had no guts to see the Street eye-to-eye. It seemed to be impatient to get to me ask me loads of questions as to why I believed it the way I did. However, I really had no idea what dreadful I had done to it. Upon asking, the Street gave me a look as if I were behaving as if I did not know anything. I was puzzled and begged the Street to have mercy on me. Common you, tell me why you did this to me? Saying this, the Street started pushing me up and down; back and forth seeking answers from me for the misadventures, I did not do in ages. Sorry sorry. I begged. I will not repeat my follies ever after. The pitch of my voice was rising. Just then, it suddenly rained right on my face, and it was not just rain. It was a swift gush of water. Where did the rain come from? I thought. It was only when I opened my eyes; I realized that, there was no such thing called a ‘Street’, there was a big void, and what I was envisaging was nothing but just a dream; and the ‘rains’ were nothing but a bucketful of water smashed into my face as I was just refusing to get up.