In a big city, sanity is the domain of a privileged few. A few, who have learnt how to escape it all. The rest of us can resort back to the much worn out "life is a bitch" rhetoric.

One of the things that the small-towner will learn in the scary, big city is that the thing you lose the quickest is your temper. He will realise, anger is an acutely contagious disease out on the streets. Those big city streets where men walk, fists clenched tightly, to find small targets on which they can vent out their professional and domestic angst. The angst that comes from trying to survive the big city. The angst that is so familiar.

Somedays... it's the work that gets to him. On other days... it's the lack of it. Sometimes, it's the rush hour that creates the need to let out a good scream . The air around him is low on oxygen. The water is high on sulphides. The bus ticket costs 15. He has only 10. The people are interesting. The people will take him for a ride.

The small-towner does not relate to these roads. They do not have stories to remind him of. He's been away from home for too long.

Then the small-towner will realise. The big city has finally gotten on his nerves.