I’ve watched him the last few days, walking back home from work; not quite staring, but not looking away either. Wrinkled face, a little bemused, he’s seated on a raised platform in front of a shop, watching the night traffic go by. He’s completely incongruous in attire better suited to small village Kathiawad: a white turban, an overshirt called an angarkha, a dhoti, stick in hand. Better dressed to herd a flock of cattle home. But he’s seated by a display of scantily clad, perfectly-proportioned mannequins, with cascading curls, or straw colored blunt cut hair, watching a sea of Hondas and Indigos coast by, and the contrast is quite something.
Monday, January 28, 2008
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10 comments:
heh. :)
Oh, yes. Something about finding this contrast in the city is so much more appealing than, say, finding some industrial chaos in the countryside.
I hope you are well.
:)
He sounds beautiful.
ha!
things like this, they make life...sweet to savour.
thank you, everyone.
They do, don't they?
the ying and yang of marketing,..grabbing all kinds! :)
Good evening to you my dear friend!
Always,
Elizabeth
That conjures up a nice picture-however,for clarity's sake,how about a pic,Austy?
wish i could get inside his head to soo what he sees.
there you are, stringing words to form pretty pictures as usual :)
kem cho? long time huh?
crusty- I think his son owns the shop, in which event he's laughing to the bank..
amit- not right is it, just to photograph someone like that? pretty rude, methinks.
resham- heh. would be interesting to try write that, wonder and grumble.
hey toinka- been a while, you bet. Nice to see you here. You lucky gal, you missed out on the not-pretty parts.
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