Learning to be a creature of the night
Learning to lose myself in the dark
Learning to be truly free
I closed my eyes
I flapped my wings
And soared high in the sky…
I don’t know why..
Want to do it again
I want to go back there
I want to know what life is…
I tried to reach for the sky
And realized I could fly
When one world stops, another takes over.
And life goes on.
An Indian experience is incomplete without an early morning walk in the Bazaars or street markets in the city. The vibrant colors, the strong smells, the quaint shops are a not-to-be -missed experiences. An early morning scene at Gandhi Bazaar, Bangalore.
Have always enjoyed visiting our ancesteral home near Hiradka – a small village close to Udupi, Karnataka,India. The house is less frequented now, but still well maintained. Have fond chilhood memories of our summer holidays spent there. We would watch the fields being ploughed, play in the slush, watch the cows being milked, walk the narrow path between fields, chase the hens in the courtyard, watch the workers climb and pluck the coconuts – sometimes jumping from one tree to the other. Drawing water from the well was the main attraction – the ancient pulley used to draw a bucket tied with ropes, creaking away as it was being pulled up. Rains would bring out all kinds of bugs and insects, sometime snakes.
The ancient windows in the house have always attracted me. They have suvived more than 300 years – no nails or screws, just the tools, hands and the craftsmanship of the carpenters of that age.