The bus comes to a stop with an enthusiastic cry,
“Ootak nindarsiv nodri”.
I order the standard plate of dal fry and rotis.
The spice gives me a running nose, but I don’t care.
The rickety red bus starts moving again.
Bridges over dried up rivers, rocky and arid plains,
Dust bowls, all go by.
That familiar smell of petrichor soon takes over.
Lush green paddy fields, show signs of a happy monsoon.
Does it mean one of 32 floodgates, will be opened soon? Exciting!
The bus finally takes a turn on the Dam Road,
and my destination arrives.
The journey ends, throwbacks however won’t.
