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  • rohini jadhav

as the train sped by...

Fields of yellow beneath a sky pale blue; as I looked out of the window, a pair of birds flew.

Next came a city with brick houses, new and old, a station filled with people, huddled up against the cold.

Besides me in bright red, bespectacled in black frames, a young lady on her phone, engaged in playing games.


As I looked out again I was greeted by a sea of greens, to which busy farmers tended aided by their youthful teens.

Then we crossed a river, sparkling in the sun; on its banks, a few children frolicked and had some fun.

A little while later, came the riddling ravines, along which walked a lone man, guiding his herd in lines.

Another station came by, devoid of much crowd, but for a few ladies with their children shrieking loud.


Further down we passed a dry deciduous forest; beside a dead tree, a woodcutter paused for a moment of rest.

All of a sudden the train stopped and I curiously peered out, only to see a boy scare away birds with claps and a shout.

Further ahead I saw children playing with tires and torn sacks; their watchful mother keeping them far from shiny, gleaming tracks.

Small but sturdy huts of thatch then caught my eye, while women toiled with mud blocks, that they later set to dry.

Next I spotted a long, winding road somewhere along the way, Few scooters and a bus sped by; people traveling for work that day.

As we neared a station, a hurried man came by, asking if we wanted lunch, calling out roti, rice, daal fry! I politely refused, opting instead for my home made snack, crispy chaklis and warm parathas that I'd seen my doting mother pack.

Then as the train moved on, more sights began to unravel, I gazed out at the landscape dotted with picturesque little marvels.

A little later, we drew the curtains to keep us all shaded; not wanting to wait till we reached, and these mental images faded...

I grabbed a pen and paper, began writing each unique memory and settled for this literary pursuit to entertain me through the journey.

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