yester-wheres
21 September, 2007 | 3 comments | Category: love.of.words!, nostalgia.personal, prose.tales
A hush caresses the morn with a whisper only momentarily, as a slanted ray illuminates the landscape. Speckles of sand dance spinning twirls in the wind.
The smell of early morning dew in the air wages battle with the pungent stank of rubbish along the floodplane, a 5 minute walk away… Where waste decorates the lush soft yellow sand of the ASHawa: the coveted playground of aspiring football stars who are daily baked by tropic sun, their hopeful dreams smoking up aerodynamic dust lingering in the air well into the early hours of the evening- every day.
Here and now, there is fresh crispness and a sparkle of energy. The coolest part during day-light is almost over before it began… As the birds chirp a call-response rendition of a tune, an Acacia twig swims through the wind, dancing an early morning fox-trot before the burning heat of the sun silences its stamina.
In a part of the world where neighbourhood noise pollution is a foreign concept, houses of worship recantations, rooster crowing, “harun harun! harun dabo!” “shieka pasta buLa! shieka pasta!”, horse buggy bells and kur-kur horns ring in the day.
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3 comments to “yester-wheres”
Tobian, September 21st, 2007 at 5:10 pm:
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for.the.love.of.words indeed! beautifully put …
tpeace, September 24th, 2007 at 7:08 am:
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thanks!
playing life in thingthing: iQa-Qa « |y?hasab s?nduQ|, October 14th, 2007 at 5:31 pm:
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[...] humidity prick the air leaving wavy optical illusions and refractions tangled with the dusty sand puffing upwards all day. but we always hid, we would go behind the old Italian building housing the venerated top [...]