A Solitude and Beyond
Dust and sorrow lie mingled on the asphalt roads of a city thirsty with desolation. Here, friendships, oaths, and loves have all been torn apart. To stumble upon any past is unnatural. Once upon a time, the golden wand and the silver wand broke a princess’s sleep. There, Yayati met Sunita. The palash and krishnachura trees had grown old; light had changed its colors; faces had turned pale. From the lines on those faces one could guess entire shadow-paintings. The troupe of nautanki players had dressed one as the hero, another as the heroine. In the small circle of life, love itself had become a cyclical play. Sometimes, suddenly, such things happen. Encounters on the road. Old characters wake from their slumber, only to appear in the ruins of damage and reckoning. This winter the city had suffered much. Political turmoil, ailing bodies, and a marketplace in decline. Yayati needed to return from his hypertension. His chin was narrow, his forehead broad and stern. Beneath hair stre...