In the city of Andropolis, all you ever look for is true love. It is not a place you can look for. The city presents in front of you like a fleeting moment. But when it does, it lasts forever. A city where genders don’t matter. What counts, is what stands before you and what you desire. Andropolis stands between structured concentric circles built amongst chaotic networks. These buildings do not need names. These streets do not need names. Through the eyes of the wanderer, he understands, silently, their significance just by their forms.

You need the blues and pinks before you know these grays. Trust me, it is a city that includes everything and needs nothing. A city that is made up of something more, always something more. Boys look like girls but girls still look like girls. Girls dress like boys but boys still dress like boys. Nobody can guarantee that one aspect of the city is stronger or truer than the other. But maybe, Andropolis is a city made up of exceptions, exclusions and contradictions.

My attempt to describe Andropolis like how Italo Calvino did in Invisible Cities.

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