I boarded the train at 09 25 with its daily commuter crowd. It was therapeutic listening to the click-clacking sounds on the railway tracks on board the three-hour circular train around the suburbs of Yangon. As it chugged along rhythmically to the next station, a lady with thanaka boarded and sat beside me with her bag full of groceries from the roadside market. She reached for a small packet of tapioca cake, took out a slice, tapped on my arm and offered it to me. I will always remember her genial smile. Having three hours on the train gave me time to people-watch and embrace the gentle breeze streaming through the windows. Men and women were dressed in their longyi, a traditional garment worn by many in Burma. Women applied thanaka on their faces, some bearing intricate patterns of a leaf. I later found out that Thanaka is a yellowish-white paste made from ground bark, often seen as a natural cosmetic product. There were farmers working tirelessly in the fields, half submerged in water while gathering vegetables to be sold in the market. Young boys in their maroon robes carried their alms bowls as they walked along the tracks. Gleeful children had their usual piggyback rides. I saw vendors seated in the train stations with their fresh produce laid out in front of them. There were groups of people huddled together on plastic stools to enjoy a simple meal at the roadside food stalls set up along the railway tracks. As the journey progressed, the passing scenes outside the windows began to change. Cityscapes gradually gave way to hectares of lush farmlands. Farmers tilled the land with the help of buffaloes, chopped pieces of wood and tended to their crops. A flock of ducks waded freely in the waters. Huts with thatched roofs dotted the fields and neat rows of vegetation adorned the landscape. A colourful string of clothes pegged on the washing line fluttered in the breeze. The wind whistled. This is the beauty of train journeys. I was reminded of an excerpt from "A Fortune-Teller Told Me: Earthbound Travels in the Far East" written by Tiziano Terzani. "The train journey, with its ample time and cramped space, re-animates an atrophied curiosity about details. You give keener attention to what lies around you, to what hurtles past the window. On trains, things are different: you share your days, your meals and your boredom with people you would otherwise never meet, some of them remain unforgettable." The train stopped at Danyingon station for a while. Being at the intersection, it functioned as a wholesale marketplace. The station was abuzz with activity. Traders displayed their produce under multi-coloured parasols, shielded from the unrelenting mid-day heat. A motley of fruits, vegetables and spices were assembled in separate mounds on a straw mat. People were engaged in rounds of good-natured banter. Some waited on the platforms to load their sacks of produce on board after they had made their purchases at the market. Vendors made their rounds along the aisle of the train carriage, carrying baskets of steamed corn cobs, fresh fruits and quail eggs for sale. The train horn blared, signalling its departure. As the journey advanced, I fell asleep and woke up minutes before we arrived back at the central station.
1 Comment
11/6/2023 10:55:24 am
I’m moved considering the surpassing and even preachy index that you really generate such modest timing.
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