On the lonesome train journey back, I kept staring out of the window. Passengers got up, others got down, I kept staring out, watching the sun make its journey across half the sky. Somewhere on the same train, there were two acquaintances from back home, but I wish they wouldn't disturb my space. My space in that overcrowded second class train compartment and that long distance train journey. The weather changed from the hot humidity of the Nizammudin railway station, across the heart of the country, into the western hinterland. I had some packaged food, lebanese falafel, packed from the hotel where I had had two baths. A lady was sitting on the opposite chair, a working woman and yet the pallu of her maroon saree draped over her head. She looked older than she must have been, a leather strap wristwatch on her hand. She kept staring out too. Perhaps, she was going back home from where she had been working, to someone waiting back home. Her creased forehead and the wrinkles besides her eye kept speaking to me in an unspoken language. I should have asked her if she would share my dinner. She would have probably given me that little smile that rose up on her face once in a while, while she was staring out of the window. And politely refused.
I didn't. She got down a few stations later.
I resumed staring out.
I hope she was going home to someone.
I resumed staring out.
I hope she was going home to someone.
On a wagon bound for market
There's a calf with a mournful eye
High above him there's a swallow
Winging swiftly through the sky
How the winds are laughing
They laugh with all the their might
Laugh and laugh the whole day through
And half the summer's night
Donna Donna Donna Donna
"Stop complaining", said the farmer
Who told you a calf to be
Why don't you have wings to fly with
Like the swallow so proud and free
How the winds are laughing
They laugh with all the their might
Laugh and laugh the whole day through
And half the summer's night
Donna Donna Donna Donna
Calves are easily bound and slaughtered
Never knowing the reason why
But whoever treasures freedom
Like the swallow has learned to fly
How the winds are laughing
They laugh with all the their might
Laugh and laugh the whole day through
And half the summer's night
Donna Donna Donna Donna
- Donna Donna
Joan Baez
4 comments:
Your words are sometimes so dream-like.. they almost make you a dream as well..
What I like is that the dream has a calm and light air, but there's more to it, always. Just like you do..
"How the winds are laughing
They laugh with all the their might
Laugh and laugh the whole day through
And half the summer's night"
these lines in joan baez's soprano voice,always bring a dream like feel,i wonder why, coz they r not supposed to.
I prefer the bus or a car over the train. The journey unravels at my pace then...
Hope U bin doin fine, brother.
ive been fine, dob...quite fine...
peace
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