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A Quarterly Journal
Jeffrey Woodward, Founder & General Editor
Volume 8, Number 4, December 2014


Yesha Shah
Surat, Gujarat, India


This morning, I play my favourite music as I go about my chores in order not to drown in the sounds of the concrete jungle. My pre-schooler is sitting on the floor with his clutter of board books, pointing at the pictures of animals, birds and flowers. Often he turns to me for help; today, he's mixed up a horse with a donkey. He is, however, quick to recognize the construction monsters that he sees from our windows. Every now and then, he cries out, "Mamma, Dumper truck . . . mamma, road roller . . . lill' yedd tracktor!" Suddenly he is alert and approaches me with raised eye brows. It's a sound he has never heard, the koel bird's coo.

peeling mango—
how long my core remained



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