On tracks and on the road

The people in my train to Kota weren’t the only ones moving along the tracks. Others walked back and forth the rails like being on a well-trodden path, they crossed here and there not heeding the danger, relieved themselves on the banks and hanged their clothes on the pillars that supported the cables.


fit to drive?

When I reached the dry heat of Rajasthan, I boarded a small car we and off into the wilderness on a national highway. The banks of that paved road often were broader than the tar – but it was just wide enough to accomodate all the families on the way to the next settlement, plus the broke-down trucks, and the women who walked miles to fetch water. Furthermore the children who, bottles and tiffins in their small hands, were on their way to work in the stone quarries or beween the mountains of rubble, to break cobblestones.

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