Last month there was a short story (less than 78 words) contest in the Esquire magazine and participating in it was a good writing exercise for me. The experience that I wanted to capture was the train that brings water to the dry/desert regions of Gujarat (Kutch regions). I happen to travel in that train a couple of times back in the late nineties and have held the long dreary day close to my heart as one of the life changing experience.
Someday I hope to travel the region again and perhaps not in that slow train again but it’s a story worth sharing, I’ll have to take time for it…
For now, my 77 words:
The screeching sound of crank shaft and wheels jostling together and the jolt from the engine pulled the train out of the platform. As the clamor of the people quieted under the steady lulling train sounds, the desert sand roared in with the iron wheels, babul needles sharp and stiff, defied the triumph of drought while the cloud less blue sky bent down to kiss, for the train brought the water that the sky failed to deliver.
Someday I hope to travel the region again and perhaps not in that slow train again but it’s a story worth sharing, I’ll have to take time for it…
For now, my 77 words:
The screeching sound of crank shaft and wheels jostling together and the jolt from the engine pulled the train out of the platform. As the clamor of the people quieted under the steady lulling train sounds, the desert sand roared in with the iron wheels, babul needles sharp and stiff, defied the triumph of drought while the cloud less blue sky bent down to kiss, for the train brought the water that the sky failed to deliver.
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