The train quickly demolished  waiting, the waiting in our things and other things.The mountains were waiting to be dug in so as to make way through their wombs as the train cut though a silence of darkness.

Women were waiting to turn into red waves of dancing their hands locked in each other’s,their songs reaching the blue end of the sky.Their dancing hands waited to inter-weave in fragmentary beauty under trees with boys waiting on tree top ladder nets like monkeys.

Waiting stood petrified in the stalagmite caves of a million years with history dripping as lime. Waiting turned to a dance in fluttering sarees by petals of interwoven hands, to woman cries that waited in caves to turn stalagmite tears.

(Experiences in Araku valley and in the prehistoric Borra caves there)


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