This has been the first morning I've been awake enough in the morning to hear India awaken. Each day here has been so full that I sleep deeply and long, and the days start with a jump out of bed to begin the next adventure. But today I woke before five, well rested.
The sounds of the morning in Ranchi are no longer of the distant jackals that are recorded in my anscestor's writings. it is no longer a little town that in unity slumbers while the night watchman keeps guard. Now doors are locked within the walled compounds all guarded by their own watchmen. The city does quiet to a hush in the middle of the night to rise in the morning.
At three over loudskpeaker the Hindu temple began the morning with the chanting of "Ram, Ram, Hare Krishna". At 3:30 the mosque cried out its first of five calls to worship "Lā- ilāha-illā-al-lāh" at 3:45 there was some distant drumming. And then a cock crowed. Intermittent train horns blasted, followed by the thunder of steel speeding down the track.
I only notice now the time. I thought it was later. I thought these calls to worship come later. Or is there more for this Basant (spring season), celebrating these welcomed rains that began after sun set and now taps on the window. Most of the city remains asleep as the gentle showers wash off the dust covered world, as prayers seep into their dreams, as the never ending stream of travelers streak through the night on their steel chariots.
The sounds of the morning in Ranchi are no longer of the distant jackals that are recorded in my anscestor's writings. it is no longer a little town that in unity slumbers while the night watchman keeps guard. Now doors are locked within the walled compounds all guarded by their own watchmen. The city does quiet to a hush in the middle of the night to rise in the morning.
At three over loudskpeaker the Hindu temple began the morning with the chanting of "Ram, Ram, Hare Krishna". At 3:30 the mosque cried out its first of five calls to worship "Lā- ilāha-illā-al-lāh" at 3:45 there was some distant drumming. And then a cock crowed. Intermittent train horns blasted, followed by the thunder of steel speeding down the track.
I only notice now the time. I thought it was later. I thought these calls to worship come later. Or is there more for this Basant (spring season), celebrating these welcomed rains that began after sun set and now taps on the window. Most of the city remains asleep as the gentle showers wash off the dust covered world, as prayers seep into their dreams, as the never ending stream of travelers streak through the night on their steel chariots.
RSS Feed
