Thursday, October 14, 2010

The spirit of cities

I write this on one of my loneliest nights. I've been meaning to pen down a lot of stuff for a long time now, but right now the beats, the voices, the rhythm, the climax - is all pushing me off the edge.
Not to mention the clapping thereafter.


Rajasthan.
It's a lonely land.
It's a defeated land.

Every face I see, every kid who looks upon me with longing in his eyes, tells the same tale of poverty.

But then I chance upon the flight of a bunch of pigeons into the blue sky at the Mehrangarh fort of Jodhpur.
The tie and dye at the various shops which pride themselves on selling their products at five times the original cost.
The star spangled night sky when I first arrived at Jaisalmer. I had never seen so many stars in my life.
The dusty bare feet of Pimu, the six-year-old who guided our camel into the sun-kissed sand dunes of the Thar.
Or the lost glory of Rajput rulers, clearly etched in the wrinkled face of the old man playing 'Kesariya balam' at the Golden fort of Jaisalmer, the echo of which can be heard reverberating within the walls of the fort.

All this
Yet incomplete
Eyes welling up
Just at the thought.

I began by saying this is one of the loneliest nights of my life.

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