Now, they all are lying at roadside for midday nap. This afternoon is not so pleasant. But there life hasn’t remained so soft to have acute sense of pleasure or pain. Remaining stones which they have to smash to earn daily wage are lying beside them. Vehicles are running with high speed on newly made road. It seems they have just finished their lunch in the shade of one compound wall. Washed utensils which they had used for lunch are near their heads. They are trying to have some rest. What I see are their dark, thin bodies lying at the side of harsh concrete road.
But they haven’t slept yet. Middle ages women among them are conversing. Their low volume suggests it is something personal, yet has to be revealed to friend. A14-15 year girl is sleeping between these two. Her eyes are heavy with sleep, but still she is trying to catch the thread of conversation from those adult women. Trapped between transitions of her age, she can’t leave puerile desire of sleep, and she can’t give up interest in conversation. Under blazing sun of afternoon, ornament which is in her nose is shining while her skin and feelings are tanned by laborious life which she has to live.
Some distance ahead, their husbands are sleeping. Yes, they are really sleeping. Muscles, shaped by regular work, in their wrists and forearms, are slowly relaxing. Food which they had eaten some times before, now has been accumulated in blood. Sleeping in the shadow of the tree, standing lonely in broader road, unknowingly, they are getting ready to put their zest in construction of the road, road which people will crush under their feet.
Still few steps more, where some temporary dwellings are made for these workers, in the space between one box home and road, four women are sitting. Two of them are young and two are adults. One young girl is cleaning and combing hairs of one adult woman. Woman, whose hairs are combed, looks diagonally towards sky. Her eyes are closed and sensation of some bodily pleasure is evident on her face, blacken by dust, heat and life. What is the cause of this pleasure? Touch which she is feeling through her hairs, pleasure derived by using that young girl for her own sake or joy of preventing harshness of life, though for a time being, on the periphery….
Now, one young girl is walking. She is not so adolescent. Her age is playing on curves of her body. Though she is not walking in middle of the road, she is attracting few eyes. Her black but shiny skin and natural challenge of her nascent youth are tuned in her walk. And, at the same time, her eyes are reflecting a common fear, of being a woman.
……. These people live around me. Their labor and life are mixed into the earth on which I walk. This caravan will relocate somewhere else in this city after few days. Adults will grow old, youngs will mature to adulthood and there will new youth. There will be new roads, these people will make them and I and others will walk on them.
Roads never reach anywhere and I haven’t heard that these people have reached anywhere, though they are travelers of destiny…
But they haven’t slept yet. Middle ages women among them are conversing. Their low volume suggests it is something personal, yet has to be revealed to friend. A14-15 year girl is sleeping between these two. Her eyes are heavy with sleep, but still she is trying to catch the thread of conversation from those adult women. Trapped between transitions of her age, she can’t leave puerile desire of sleep, and she can’t give up interest in conversation. Under blazing sun of afternoon, ornament which is in her nose is shining while her skin and feelings are tanned by laborious life which she has to live.
Some distance ahead, their husbands are sleeping. Yes, they are really sleeping. Muscles, shaped by regular work, in their wrists and forearms, are slowly relaxing. Food which they had eaten some times before, now has been accumulated in blood. Sleeping in the shadow of the tree, standing lonely in broader road, unknowingly, they are getting ready to put their zest in construction of the road, road which people will crush under their feet.
Still few steps more, where some temporary dwellings are made for these workers, in the space between one box home and road, four women are sitting. Two of them are young and two are adults. One young girl is cleaning and combing hairs of one adult woman. Woman, whose hairs are combed, looks diagonally towards sky. Her eyes are closed and sensation of some bodily pleasure is evident on her face, blacken by dust, heat and life. What is the cause of this pleasure? Touch which she is feeling through her hairs, pleasure derived by using that young girl for her own sake or joy of preventing harshness of life, though for a time being, on the periphery….
Now, one young girl is walking. She is not so adolescent. Her age is playing on curves of her body. Though she is not walking in middle of the road, she is attracting few eyes. Her black but shiny skin and natural challenge of her nascent youth are tuned in her walk. And, at the same time, her eyes are reflecting a common fear, of being a woman.
……. These people live around me. Their labor and life are mixed into the earth on which I walk. This caravan will relocate somewhere else in this city after few days. Adults will grow old, youngs will mature to adulthood and there will new youth. There will be new roads, these people will make them and I and others will walk on them.
Roads never reach anywhere and I haven’t heard that these people have reached anywhere, though they are travelers of destiny…
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