Friday, May 20, 2011

Naane naana

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It feels like a song you heard somewhere else first, not on your radio. It always has that other radio feel to it. Maybe it was on your first trip to another city. Or maybe it was at your friend’s house. Was there girl there that you liked when you herd it first? You’re not sure. But it was summer though. A lazy, Sunday afternoon summer. The leaves on every tree stay still making you wonder whether the breeze comes when they move or they move when the breeze comes from elsewhere, and it makes you think of a similar sentiment expressed in an old song. The street your house is on is quiet, not many are out in this heat, even the dogs are seeking shade. When the odd person walks by, they just look up without any strength to bark, and go back to sleep. The cart with bananas is attracting flies, and the man who pushes the cart is asleep with a towel he ties around his head on his face. It’s quiet. Your neighbour radio comes on with this song. There’s a gentle sway to the tune with its guitar and wind instruments. Something intoxicating that pulls you into its rhythm. You sit on the steps looking at the sun dappled concrete floor, the unusually bright green leaves and the chillies drying in the flat bamboo tray.

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