Amritsar

It’s 11pm and the phone rings. Surprised to see my mother’s name pop up. It’s way past her bed time.

“So, did you visit the Golden Temple or not?”
“No, I went to the railway station and its enormous yard”

Night’s fallen. It’s hot and humid.

“There are a lot of movements in the yard today, sir. And I am on a double shift.”

At the other end of the yard, remains of the past.

In the heat and humidity and dust and grime, things become still for a while.

But not for long. Everything needs to move again.