I marvel
For a moment
At the saris
Hanging in the shops
A spectacle of
Colour
Texture
Pattern
Each sari unique
Tightly packed
In the confines
Of tiny shops
Not at all unlike
The thrumming humanity
In the narrow streets
Of Chandni Chowk
I marvel
For a moment
At the saris
Hanging in the shops
A spectacle of
Colour
Texture
Pattern
Each sari unique
Tightly packed
In the confines
Of tiny shops
Not at all unlike
The thrumming humanity
In the narrow streets
Of Chandni Chowk
The thing about travel is
Something so everyday
As a group of friends
Hanging out on a street corner
Seems extraordinary…
…even beautiful
The thing about extended travel is
Once familiarity renders
The extraordinary as everyday
The sense of beauty in the mundane
Remains…
…and travels home with me
You with the sad eyes
Who found the glass
In this swarm of activity
And I released the shutter
Capturing your moment
Of I know not what
Tired?
Beaten down?
Or just weary
Of yet another tourist
Stealing a moment of your life
For a purpose you’ll never know
One small moment of
Solitude in the chaos
Unladen Burdens
When compassion fails
Frailty is where the boot comes down
The hardest
Sometimes
There’s just too much going on
Too many possibilities
Overwhelmed
Confused
Disoriented
So I watch
So I listen
And try not to think
Let it all settle
Cabs stacked up
End to end
Filled with fares
Or seeking them
Crowded shops
Pedestrians
Littered streets
Swept clean by morn’
So full of life
Activity
This crowded block
Where could it be
Impossible to gauge
To comprehend
Without standing
In the midst
Feeling the flow
Feeling the insignificance
Of one more being
In this tumultuous rapids
Of being