February 9, 2012 § 3 Comments

In pretence of a lamp post, the moon hovers delicately over this conventional village, along with low-lying roof tiles scurrying with life.

Again, we sit and watch the bullock-carts and life pass by, as they carry yet another weary farmer away from unyielding fields.


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§ 3 Responses to

  • melissa says:

    Nice! What a thought provoking post…and blog! (I skimmed down a bunch of posts). I’ll be back. (not spoken in an aaaanold accent-haha!!)

    • ruthpinto says:

      Haha, it would be slightly off-putting to imagine that accent popping up here. It’s a good thing you clarified.
      This was written while in a little village in the middle of Vidarbha. More on some of the villages and the journey they held shall be posted soon.

  • Alex Fyffe says:

    Your slender entries —
    Lampposts illuminating
    The evening ghosts


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