Abandoned


It isn't that I haven't seen these carts before. They may not be as ubiquitous on our city roads, as they once were. But many a times, I have managed to see a bullock-cart, and those weary oxen yoked to it; I’ve also seen the tongas, or horse-drawn carriages, jostling for space in the labyrinth of our city’s roads, fighting for every available inch, with the unsympathetic motorist.

But the total isolation of this cart, in the middle of nowhere, caught my eye. Just like the lonely farmer that I was to meet a little farther on, this cart too had that feeling of abandonment and unexplainable isolation attached to it.

I’m sure that this wasn’t the case always. It must have had oxen yoked to it at some point during its life; it must have been owned by a farmer at some point in time who greased its wheels regularly or, tended to a broken rail. But on that day, there were no signs of anyone. Neither the oxen nor the farmer. The cart just stood there, alone, beside the long road that stretched on for miles….