 |
| suddenly returning to the awareness of existance in the dream of matter, i found myself walking with a gentle rain . i was on my way to a guerilla gardening project and gathering siccum along the way. the gentle sprinkle was turning into a monsoon shower i ducked under a tarp and perched on a stoop beside a stout little khana dhaba, and engaged with the undeniable awe of wet-feathered crows and fabulously decrpit architecture, toothless beggars, curious little kids; and dripping jolly rickshaw wallahs beaming from the ground up, barefoot in kolkata. for the price of eleven rupees, my hunger was fed with a round of puri-sabji, chai, and a biscuit. |
 |
 |
|
|
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |