Sand in my Mind
June 25, 2009
These days, once a week, we have sandtstorms.
Everything is fine under the 50°C-hot swelter, when suddenly the sun disappears, a warm wily wind shakes trees and men, and a yellow curtain descends on the city.
From my bedroom window, I cannot see Moti Dungri anymore. I cannot see my neighbour’s house either. I cannot see anything, for that matters.
All the windows are shut, but from under the balconies doors, trails of sand creep in.
Soon, I have sand in my hair too.
The electricity goes down, and there is nothing else to do but wait, transfixed by the eerie light and the thick yellow wall that is the outside world.
Then finally comes the rain. The wall dissolves, the wind shuts up and everyone rushes outside in relief.
And while you step out on your balcony taking in the heady smell of rain on dry earth, like always in India you wonder: what about those who have no home?