Varanasi

Finding melodies in malady: Day 168

Finding melodies in malady: Day 168

I barely slept on the night train and eventually took a seat at the window, once the sleeper car had become alive again. The atmosphere outside infiltrated my senses with green, cool, and an absence of the decay of Delhi and Agra. In those few early moments, I had a breakfast of rural fulfillment. I sat bearing witness to the dawn activity of farmers, their wives, and their vivacious offspring. The women never ceased carrying heavy loads of sloshing mud, fire wood, or other awkwardly-carried weight around. Had the train been going slow enough, I would have considered the tuck and roll, careful to guard my packet of crackers. I was, somewhat regrettably, rolling into Varanasi.

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