28 August 1963-1

we were tired after the long march for freedom hundred miles of trekking hurting knees sweating skin too hot a day for the mid autumn may be the pain fever in the big city after the cherries have blossomed n gone like an endemic influenza sea of people like the sand on the beaches stretched beyond her innocent yearning hazel eyes the preacher was on talking of dreams proclamations emancipations and discriminations in the valley of despair we were dreaming too she was yellow and i was brown under classifications imagine our children what could they be maybe violet purple green blue indigo orange lilac crimson pink or red tissues are pink and the blood red for all sure i have seen imagine if we were born with all these colours or like a rain bow well back to dreams again we were dreaming for a world where there is no cast creed colour or country sect state party religion hell or heaven the greatest speach of the liberator was on he was on fire lighting up the masses he was moving our souls but the system was not functioning n we couldnt comprehend hence we shared our cold beer turned warm we were tired and was lost in the crowd for a while