A Blooming Paradise

Colourful dry leaves covering your way to the Magic Bullet Paradise’—a renowned nursery in the heart of the city—symbolise the new new’.

- Abhik Bhattacharya

THE smell of half-bloomed tulips, green pastures and the sun-soaked grass welcome you to the grandeur of nature—the hearth-throbbing beauty of an ancient city. The undesired dusts that used to cover the vacant resting benches don’t find their accomplice anymore. They are clean. The old structures, tainted with the burden of the past, no more hang over the vision of the future.  

The future glows just like the lighting show—the colourful fountains, laser lights, and many more. On your way to this heavenly serenity of ‘Magic Bullet Paradise’—a renowned nursery in the heart of the city—you will never feel exhausted. The early days of dense, congested roads filled with scumbags, who illegally entered from foreign countries to occupy the streets, ambushing the civilisational ethos, are past now. 

You can find colourful dry leaves covering your way to the nursery. The dryness doesn’t always symbolise the past. It is a new dryness that exists just to show you the contrasting appeal of the fresh—the ‘new’. Once, some foreign invaders constructed a humongous space for demon worshipping. Cockroaches with white stings—visually emulating the aliens from a Hitchcockian imagination—used to fill it in numbers. They are successfully replaced with beautiful incense sticks.